Persephone's Harvest
by deletrear
Summary: As Hokage, Tsunade is too busy to train Sakura the way she needs. As it happens, she has a twin sister with sufficient enough skill to mentor Sakura in her place. An evil twin sister, that is.
1. Sakura Gets Sacked

Anime/Manga » Naruto » **Persephone's Harvest**  
Notes: There was this one tumblr post wondering why no one trained Sakura with the same dedication as her teammates had been; one of the comments was an off-hand suggestion that Kishimoto could have at least introduced Tsunade's 'evil twin sister called Denatsu who could train Sakura since Tsunade was too busy being Hokage' and, well, here we are.  
Chapter: 1/?  
Summary: As Hokage, Tsunade is too busy to train Sakura the way she needs. As it happens, she has a twin sister with sufficient enough skill to mentor Sakura in her place. An _evil_ twin sister, that is. [OC. Crack taken seriously. Sakura-centric.]

* * *

 **o.o.o**

* * *

"Lady Tsunade is giving you up?" Ino sounded so shocked by the idea that Sakura had no choice but to love her for it, but as flattering as Ino's genuine surprise that someone could treat her less than she 'deserved', it didn't change anything. Sakura still couldn't help but feel abandoned; weak and left behind, yet again _._

It had been two days since Sakura received the summons to the Hokage's office, which were forty-eight hours that Sakura had spent crying in her room. It took her best friend literally crashed through her window demanding to know what was wrong before Sakura was ready to face what had happened.

A walk to the nearest _kissaten_ and three cups of gyokuro tea later, Sakura had filled Ino in.

And Ino looked furious. Sakura shook her head, asking her silently to stand down. "Don't be mad; I get it. Lady Tsunade… she's busy. _Extremely_ so. There was no way for her to balance her duties to the village and her duties to me as her student. She had to prioritise, and there's no question on which one she should value higher."

Unsatisfied, Ino pressed, "What about Shizune? Can't she teach you?"

"Shizune is overworked enough as it is," In fact, Sakura used to help Shizune with her duties. Watching the young woman frantically run about the village satisfying Tsunade's needs had tired Sakura out, and she found it impossible to stand by and watch without offering assistance. She knew first hand how difficult Shizune had it. "I couldn't ask that of her."

"Well, does this mean Lady Tsunade is letting go of _all_ of her apprentices?"

That's right. Ino was apprenticing under Tsunade as well, wasn't she? She must have been worried, listening to Sakura.

"No! No, no, no, she wouldn't do that!" Ino looked quietly relieved, and Sakura patted her hand apologetically, guilty for her part to play in her friend's distress. "Lady Tsunade is upholding her commitment there. She was a medic nin before she was Hokage, so it's a point of pride for her to bring the hospital up to standard. That includes the staff. It's only for the more… personal tutoring – she can't fit it into her scheduling."

Ino flipped her hair over her shoulder. There was a dissatisfied twist to her lips that flattered Sakura, pleased to realize that she really _did_ have her best friend back. Even if Ino's training wasn't compromised, she was still angry about the situation, still angry at _Lady Tsunade._ The impertinence of it was heart-warming. It didn't matter that it wasn't Ino's place to judge the Hokage's decisions. Sakura was upset; that was enough reason for the Yamanaka heir.

Sakura gripped her hand tighter. "I don't resent Lady Tsunade, Ino. You shouldn't either."

"I don't," She scoffed, lying, "It's just – do you realize how absurd her reasoning is? I understand that she's Hokage, and I respect her strength as a medical nin and the only female member of the Sannin, but her jutsu – her _strength_ is a secret technique, an invaluable one. It belonged to the Shodaime. If she doesn't have a student to pass it down to, the secret will die with her. How could she just let it _die_?"

Of course. As a clan kid, Ino _would_ be prickly on the subject of jutsu inheritance. Lady Tsunade's unique strength-enhancing chakra technique was not a kekkei genkai. It could be taught. It could be _learned_ , and if the technique wanted to live on, it _had_ to be. It was the same deal with the Yamanaka Mind Transfer jutsu. It was the same as with _any_ Hiden jutsu. To Ino, the act of deliberately keeping the technique to yourself was near blasphemous; such a selfish act would be to doom an entire clan and its legacy.

"She simply doesn't have the time," Sakura said, understanding her friend's feelings. Oh, she understood them alright. Two days hadn't been nearly enough; it wouldn't be for anyone, let alone Sakura, who felt things more intensely and fiercely than she sometimes knew what to do with. "The fact that she juggled me for six months… it's a miracle we made it this far, Ino."

Ino blew out a harsh breath. "That's not the point!" She scowled. "She knew why this was so important to you, didn't she? Isn't she the one who told you all the time to 'not give up' and to 'harden up' because she wasn't going easy on you? She can't lay the foundations and then _quit!_ "

Sakura sipped from her cup, desperate to earn herself a moment of quiet contemplation. Ino's anger was not only understandable, but enticing; it would be easy to match her. Sakura had the capacity for it. She was hurt enough that it would be easy to lose her temper on the subject – she was temperamental at the best of times, after all.

But Sakura wasn't so childish. It had been six months since both of her teammates left her. It was hard, but Sakura grew up. And besides, she respected Lady Tsunade far too much to talk about her in any way that wasn't kind. Her teacher had earned that basic decency and more.

"Six months was enough," Sakura insisted. She smiled.

It was tremulous, unsteady, and she was on the verge of tears. Talking about this was too hard for her and Sakura was not unaffected. But her actions weren't to reassure Ino that she was fine – that wasn't the point, not at all. It was a white flag, a surrender. This wasn't a fight she could win.

"It's enough. I'm happy with the time I had. Lady Tsunade did all that she could afford to do for me. I can't ask anything more from her."

"Sakura…"

"I'm not in any place to demand for more, Ino. Now please, let's stop talking about it, okay? There's nothing… there's nothing we can do."

Ino visibly battled with herself on it, but ultimately bent to Sakura's request. She nodded once, eyes wide and sympathetic, and ordered another pot of tea. "I'll tell you about the party Choji's parents threw last week then if I haven't already."

"You have, but tell me again."

"Well, you know how _Nashi Wa Nashi_ has been dead-set on being an independent restaurant in the village without a Civilian Merchant representative? Choji's mom finally managed to talk to them about how stupid a decision that is, so _Nashi Wa Nashi_ ended up signing on as a…"

Neither of them cared for restaurant politics, but Sakura needed the distraction and Ino had the means to provide one. Sakura listened to the story of how the Akimichi's managed to acquire yet another restaurant for their chain and thought, quite decisively, that she had the bestest best friend the world could offer.

* * *

 **o.o.o**

* * *

Lady Tsunade's training regime was hard, but it was a regime that Sakura had gotten used to.

It was also one that she couldn't do on her own. Her first option was to approach Kakash. Sakura was still a genin, he her official sensei, and it made sense for her to go to him to monitor her training. When she attempted to track him down, however, Gai informed her that Kakashi-sensei was on a mission.

"It's, of course, an S-rank; I would expect nothing less from Kakashi! It should take months to finish, although knowing my Eternal Rival, he'll complete it in half the time! Nevertheless, he isn't present!"

Sakura had had no idea. Her relationship with Kakashi had never been something for the history books, but it still surprised her to realize that she was so out-of-contact with her sensei. An S-rank mission. Those were dangerous. He might not even survive it, and she was only now finding out that he was gone from the village? That he'd been gone for _weeks_?

That left Sakura no other option but to approach her second choice.

Who was right in front of her, actually.

"Then, Gai-sensei, could you supervise and assist me with my training?"

"I would be honored to! Unfortunately, I _do_ have my own dear students to train. Depending on how exhaustive your regime is, I may not be able to fulfil the duties you have so humbly requested of me."

"Lady Tsunade herself developed my regime. It usually takes half a day to get through, and it's intense the entire way through. I'm sorry, Gai-sensei, I wasn't thinking."

Gai was not deterred. When was he ever? "Hmm… half a day? Monday and Thursday are days where my dear students are permitted rest. That is all I can promise you, youthful student of Kakashi!"

Her mouth twitched down. ' _He'd remember Naruto's name,'_ she thought viciously, ' _or Sasuke's. So why not mine?'_ Besides, 'student of Kakashi' was a stretch of the imagination. She was a member of the three-man genin team assigned under Hatake Kakashi. Sakura was no student of his – she learned nothing from him.

Not to be ungrateful, Sakura bowed deeply. "That is more than enough, Gai-sensei. Thank you very much!"

Gai laughed and slapped her on the back. "I'm happy to be of assistance to a shinobi dedicated to improving herself! Run me through the details: what exactly does your regime entail? Where shall we meet on Monday? At what time? I will ensure that your fitness is not compromised under my supervision, youthful one!"

The enthusiasm was new. And grating. Sakura shook her head sharply of the thought. ' _Be grateful he wants you,'_ she scolded herself. Being wanted was a novelty. She had to learn how to appreciate it.

Sakura told Gai all that he needed to know. He was suitably impressed by the gladiator training and expressed how unsurprised he was by it – "I would expect nothing less from the strongest kunoichi in the world!" before they agreed to meet up at the Hokage mountain.

Three very low-intensity-morning-runs later, that's exactly where Sakura was. It was four in the morning and Gai was running her through her stretches. They lapped the village forty-three times: Gai allowed her to stop early, insisting that pushing her too far would hurt her body more than it would help. Sakura had been grateful. Lady Tsunade never let her finish early.

Next was the strength training, done underwater while wearing weights. Gai handled it admirably, being a man of impressive strength himself. He understood the principles and carried Sakura through it gently. Though stern, Gai was careful not to toe the line. He claimed it was because he had no clue about what she was capable of, so he would play it safe until he was sure.

The part of the training where Lady Tsunade would test her with medical questions or war tactics was attempted at, to little success. While Gai was not at all unintelligent, he admitted to going through battles relying on instinct, muscle memory, and improvisation. He emphasised that the battlefield was an unpredictable place, and his fighting style was heavily reliant on speed. There was no time for thinking.

That hadn't been anything like what Lady Tsunade preached.

" _The battlefield is never exactly as you expect and you can't plan for every eventuality. It's stupid to try. Overthinking in any situation is trouble; on the field, it could get you killed. But shinobi are people, Sakura, and people follow patterns. Learn these patterns, and you're five steps ahead before the game has even begun."_

Chakra control was another aspect of Sakura's training that she had to tackle alone.

On reflexes, Gai-sensei was an immense help. He was reluctant to throw rocks at Sakura, but Sakura wouldn't let him back down. He threw them in the most apologetic way that one _could_ throw rocks, and although Sakura completed her training, by the end of the day, there was a strange feeling gathering in the back of her throat.

At the end of Lady Tsunade's training, even if Sakura was covered in bruises, even if she had sprained her wrist or rolled her ankle, even if she was so exhausted when she returned home that the only thing she could do was collapse on her bed without even eating dinner, she was thrilled to do so. She'd hurt, but it would feel good because she'd hurt herself in the process of getting better; her pain had been the result of the teaching of one of the Sannin, and it had been an _honor._

Training under Gai could not compare to that.

Sakura didn't feel as if she'd learned anything new. She did not feel as if she'd evolved, as if she'd taken those crucial steps closer to where her teammates were. She still felt weak; forgotten, left behind like dead weight.

She couldn't get better alone. Sakura needed help, and she knew it. The problem therein was that everyone who could help her didn't _want_ to, and the truth of it _burned._

* * *

 **o.o.o**

* * *

" _You needed me, Lady Tsunade?"_

 _Tsunade looked up from the document she was scribbling over. "Ah, Sakura. You're here."_

" _Lady Tsunade…" Sakura almost fiddled with the hem of her shirt. She resisted. Tsunade told her to banish the instinct to be submissive, which included fidgeting in the presence of powerful people. Even if a certain powerful person regularly threw stones at Sakura. "... Are you feeling alright?"_

 _She asked because Tsunade was surrounded by stacks of paperwork. There was a cup in her hands, which she was filling up with sake. On her desk and scattered on the floor were empty bottles. Present across her forehead and under her eyes was a rare sighting of wrinkles, paired with the characteristic bags of someone who wasn't getting enough sleep._

 _The Hokage seemed unwell._

" _I'm fine," Tsunade said gruffly, waving her hand. Sloppy. Was she already drunk? "I… I've survived wars, Sakura. I've survived losing my little brother and my fiancee. I didn't think paperwork would be the enemy to fell me, but I underestimated the petty complaints of the masses."_

 _Sakura stayed silent, unsure if this is where she was supposed to speak. Tsunade poured a cup and drank it like it was water. She sighed harshly. Sakura swallowed and asked, "Does Shizune know that you're drinking so heavily, Tsunade?"_

" _No." A snort. "She's off addressing some uppity civilian nobles in my stead. She wouldn't approve of my drinking, I'm sure, but since she'll no doubt be returning with another crate of paperwork, she can shut up about it. I need the sake if I want to stay awake."_

" _Is staying awake the best option for you?"_

" _If I don't, I'll be buried by tomorrow morning." Tsunade said flatly. She tapped her pen frantically on the desk. If it were anyone else doing it, Sakura would call that 'fidgeting'. "But that's not what I called you here to talk about."_

 _Sakura tilted her head. "Shishou? Is everything alright?" Did something happen to Naruto? He was the only person she could think of who would make Tsunade nervous, if that was indeed what Tsunade was. Her teacher loved Naruto. Sakura was kind of envious of it._

" _Sit down, Sakura."_

 _Sakura sat down. 'To hell with it,' She thought, and began to twist the fabric of her skirt between her fingers. Tsunade steepled her fingers in front of her mouth. Her eyes were on Sakura's small form, unreadable. She seemed unhappy._

 _Sakura swallowed, inexplicably and absolutely nervous. What had happened? Was there something wrong with Naruto after all? With Orochimaru? Did she receive intel about Sasuke?_

" _I want to first state that I think that you will go to spectacular places. You're a bright, dedicated pupil, and you have the capacity for greatness the same as any other shinobi. Your chakra control especially opens up many avenues for you, and it is something to be proud of. I believe in you, Haruno Sakura. I always will. Regardless of what happens here, you will always be my pupil."_

 _Sakura froze. "... Shishou?"_

" _There is no easy way to say this. I won't draw it out any longer: I'm sorry," said Tsunade, closing her eyes, "but given the unforeseen intensity of my duties, I can no longer mentor you, Sakura."_

 _Sakura's heart plummeted to her stomach. Her dreams went with it._

* * *

 **o.o.o**

* * *

Sakura trained with Gai every Monday and Thursday for two months. She even employed the assistance of Kurenai for chakra control and Asuma for tactical training. Sakura trained with the teams when necessary and spread herself all across Konoha, desperate for someone to see something in her worth cultivating.

It never happened. She remained 'Kakashi's student,' an intruder upon the training of others. She was achingly aware that she was a lost little girl, abandoned by her teammates, her sensei, and her teacher. Her chakra control was amazing, it really was, but without a technique like Lady Tsunade's to bring it to its full potential, her control brought home no bounties; and with just about every kunoichi in Konoha taking medic nin lessons from the Hokage, not even Sakura's Mystical Palm was inexpendable.

The fish flopped to life from beneath her hands.

No one else in the room had managed that much. For a second, Sakura felt a vicious thrill of pride. She instinctively turned to Lady Tsunade for approval, for the slight nod that would vindicate every bruise and broken bone that Sakura had endured up to this point. She'd look and she would know that this accomplishment was real.

Lady Tsunade was standing at Hinata's shoulder.

Sakura deflated. ' _That's right, stupid. She's not_ _yours_ _anymore. She isn't personally invested anymore.'_

The fish jumped off the table and hit the linoleum floor with a wet smack. From the nearest station, Ino looked up from her subject and smiled. "Good work, Forehead," She whispered. Her face was bright with pride. "Wanna tell me how the heck you managed it?"

Tearing her eyes away from Tsunade, Sakura settled on a shrug. "I _could_ , but – "

"But she shouldn't," Said a new voice, deeper and matured. Ino startled in a very not-ninja-like manner. Shizune had come up from behind the Yamanaka and was now picking up Sakura's thrashing fish. "Lady Tsunade wouldn't like it if you didn't achieve this on your own, Ino-chan."

Ino pouted. She looked dearly as if she wanted to say ' _who cares what that old hag thinks?!'_ but didn't dare. Ino was angry on Sakura's behalf; she wasn't an idiot. She wouldn't dare bad-mouth the Hokage while in the same room as her.

"Good work, Sakura-chan," Shizune said, genuine warmth in her voice. There were dark circles under her eyes that Sakura was finding difficult not to stare at. "I knew you would be able to do it. With proper guidance, you could have better chakra control than anyone in this room."

"Even the Hokage?" Asked Ino, a bland smile on her face.

"Perhaps," Shizune said coyly. "You didn't hear it from me, though, okay?"

Ino winked. Sakura cleared her throat. "Shizune, have you been sleeping well?"

"Huh? Me?" Sakura thought for a moment that Shizune would lie, but then the medic nin laughed. It sounded more like a groan. "To be honest, not really. I'm busy addressing Lady Tsunade's problems and there's no time for eight hours. I really miss my bed…"

"Have you been sleeping in the office?"

"And in the mission room. And the receptionist desk. And while standing outside Lady Tsunade's doors whenever she has meetings. Being the personal assistant of the Hokage herself is very hard work."

"I'll say. It can't be good for you if you're only getting naps here and there."

"It can't be helped," said Shizune. She was looking at Sakura now. "Lady Tsunade gets even less time to herself than I do. The council almost demanded that she shut down the medical lessons, deeming them a waste of her valuable time."

Ino frowned. "That can't have gone down well,"

"Oh, it didn't. Lady Tsunade won't give up these lessons. One of the most pressing issues for her is the state of the hospital since it's a personal matter; she needs it to reach her standards before she can entertain the idea of leaving the office to sleep."

Sakura looked down at her hands. The callouses that those precious six months of training had rewarded her with were softening up. She was faster, stronger, smarter than ever, but something was missing. She had been so sure that Tsunade would lead the way, show her carefully, patiently, _what_ Sakura was missing.

Sakura had been selfish to assume that much out of the Hokage.

"I'm glad," she said faintly, "that these moments are the calmest parts of her day."

"Sakura?"

Sakura clenched her fists and swallowed back a fresh flood of pathetic, pathetic tears. "The Hokage deserves her peace."

And she meant it. _She did._ Just because she was upset about it didn't mean Sakura's heart wasn't in the right place. Surely everyone knew that – surely Shizune could _tell_? The dark-haired kunoichi was eyeing her thoughtfully. Despite her feelings, Sakura only wished the best for her former-teacher. She didn't begrudge her a single bit.

The hair on the back of Sakura's neck rose.

There was a noise – too contained to be a throat-clear yet too deliberate to count as anything else. Sakura spun. Tsunade was looking down at her with a single eyebrow raised, expression casual if not slightly amused. "That's flattering," She drawled, and Sakura struggled with all the _feelings_ suddenly vying for control of her tongue. "But the amount of peace I experience in my day-to-day life is nothing you need to be concerning yourself with, Sakura."

It was, though. Or it had been. ' _Until you threw me away.'_

She really needed to tone down on the angst.

"You revived the fish. Congratulations on being the first." Tsunade praised. Sakura looked at her feet. She fisted the hem of her shirt. How did one form words, anyway? There was a heavy pause. Sakura wished she had the courage to look up and meet Tsunade's eyes, to see what expression she was making. "Yamanaka Ino, don't you have your own fish to revive? Gossiping with your friend won't improve your Mystical Palm jutsu any faster."

Ino laughed. "Sorry, sorry, Hokage-sama. I was just telling Sakura how well she was doing and asking for some tips. I didn't mean to get so distracted."

"I'm sure you can manage on your own,"

"Mmm-hm!" The Yamanaka chirped, overly excited. "I'm sure I could. Well, once again: good work, Forehead. You're doing really well for someone who didn't have any help!" Sakura sighed. "I'll catch up, so don't get comfortable in your 'number one' position, alright?"

Ino went back to work, humming. There was no way Tsunade wasn't aware of what she was doing, but didn't seem mad. Shizune made a sound that Sakura couldn't decipher. "I'll make sure the rest of the class is on track," She said, and swiftly left to make her rounds of the room.

Tsunade's presence was even more suffocating with no one around to buffer it.

Sakura ground her teeth. Why was she so _weak_? It had been two months without Tsunade! Why was this affecting her so badly?

"Sakura,"

"Yes, Hokage-sama?"

Tsunade ordered her to: "Stay behind after class. I have something I want to ask of you." Sakura nodded. Far be it from _her_ to question the Fifth Hokage. "... Very good work on the fish. You really do excel at this type of work. I'm proud of you."

She turned on her high heels and left.

Sakura kept staring at her feet, unsure of how she was supposed to feel. Ino cleared her throat. "Forehead, you okay?"

"Yeah," She answered distantly. Her eyebrows furrowed. "I'm – fine. The trick is to concentrate your chakra on points of interest, by the way. Hills, heart, lungs, all the important organs. If you can keep them warm and operational, the body takes over by itself."

"... That makes _so much sense,_ what the heck. Thanks, Sakura."

Sakura shrugged.

Why would Tsunade want to see her after class?


	2. Sakura Gets Hired

Anime/Manga » Naruto » **Persephone's Harvest**  
Notes: In spirit of the original post, Denatsu's name is staying as is. I don't even care anymore. Names are way too hard.  
Chapter: 2/?  
Summary: As Hokage, Tsunade is too busy to train Sakura the way she needs. As it happens, she has a twin sister with sufficient enough skill to mentor Sakura in her place. An _evil_ twin sister, that is. [OC. Crack taken seriously. Sakura-centric.]

* * *

 **o.o.o**

* * *

"Father."

"Hm?"

"Do you hate me?"

Senju Takumi looked up from his hands to address his daughter, sitting so proper and placid at his side. Her hands were not pressed together and she had not kept her eyes down as they prayed together. Her chin was up, her eyes straight ahead. Indomitable.

But it was not the way of the Senju to be immovable, and Takumi felt it starkly – the separation of his daughter from her family, and the heavy burden of guilt that came from being the reason for that. He turned to stare at the framed picture of his wife, smiling so beautifully. The grief was there; but so was the love, and the peace, and the memories of those precious years of light and laughter spent together. He loved his wife no less for her absence in his life.

Tsunade had inherited her smile, wide and shameless and contagious, but the eyes – narrow and dark, with enough edge to pin you in place like a butterfly to a spreading board – she'd given to the youngest. It was the only part of Denatsu that he truly recognised as familiar.

Peripherally, he noticed Tsunade opening her eyes to peer at Denatsu. Curiosity.

Twins though they might have been, there was no intrinsic understanding between the sisters. They had not grown up together the way that other siblings did. With other twins, the genes were identical, the children completely interchangeable. Not his children. Not with Denatsu, who he loved but did not understand, who was so different from her sister and her mother and her father that raising her was the equivalent of swimming across shark-infested waters: there was inexperienced splashing, a feeling not dissimilar to drowning, screaming, and the threat of death-by-dismemberment whenever there was blood in the water.

' _You would understand,'_ He thought, staring at his wife's shrine. ' _If she had the chance to know you, Denatsu would love you. She would talk to you. She wouldn't be so alone.'_

Takumi dared to lay his hand on Denatsu's head. She tensed but if she found it intolerable she would pull away, as she always did. He told her honestly, "No matter what you do, I could never hate you."

"Even though I killed mother?" Takumi suddenly found it hard to breathe. Denatsu kept staring ahead, unaware of the brutality behind her bland question. He wondered if she'd done it on purpose, and then hated himself for wondering at all. "Even though I didn't meet you until I was three? Even then?"

"Even then," said Takumi, removing his hand from Denatsu's head. He wrapped an arm around Tsunade and pulled her closer; he didn't dare do the same to Denatsu, who would surely not appreciate the contact. "I'm your father. I'll love you no matter how many bad things you do."

Denatsu processed his words. He couldn't tell if she was satisfied with them. She nodded, stood up, and bowed her head to the portrait. Barely. He thought again, _Indomitable_ , and wished (for Denatsu's sake at least) that he could associate the word with the respect it deserved instead of an old man's old regrets.

"Okay," She said, and with one backwards glance at the shrine of her mother, she left the room.

Tsunade watched. As soon as Denatsu was clear of them, she mumbled, "Why is she like that? So weird?"

What a question. How could Takumi answer that when he scarcely understood matters himself?

"Something happened to her when she was born. It changed her a bit, made her very different from other kids. Be patient with Denatsu, okay?" He ruffled her hair, causing her to giggle. Takumi's heart filled with warmth. She sounded just like her mother sometimes. "Other people can't be too close to your sister because of the way she is. You're the only one who can hug her, so you have to make sure you do it all the time."

Tsunade harrumphed. "I can do that. Easy!"

"Good. We're all counting on you, so do your best, Tsunade."

* * *

 **o.o.o**

* * *

' _You're a shinobi, Sakura. You're a tool. Tools don't have emotions. Feelings get in the way of a mission, and this is kind of like a mission, so just act like a shinobi should. Shinobi don't get anxious. They aren't afraid to talk to the Hokage after class like some sort of delinquent kid being held back so they can have a discussion about how they could do so much better if they stopped bothering everyone – damn it! You're just making it worse, idiot!'_

Why was she so _bad_ at this?

Sakura breathed in deeply. She had no real reason for how nervous she was. She'd been in more intense situations than this – thank you dearly, Momochi Zabuza. She could look Kakashi-sensei in the face and talk to him without feeling like she'd eaten worms for breakfast, and he'd pretty much done exactly what Tsunade had done.

(Only, not really. Because Kakashi-sensei never gave her a real shot, and Tsunade did, and Tsunade trained her for six intense, terrible, wonderful months where Sakura felt like she could really do something with herself, and then she'd taken all of it away.

And Sakura had avoided talking to the Hokage for two crucial months since then, because thinking about talking to someone who'd essentially thrown her _away_ was enough to frighten Sakura into her room for a couple of days in a fit of depression, let alone actually _doing it._ )

As she said: no real reason. The feelings were inexplicable and completely unnecessary. After all, she was the Hokage. Lady Tsunade was bound to be busy.

Sakura was an unfit second generation shinobi whose main motivation for getting stronger hinged on her two male teammates – both of whom had already surpassed her, and would _always_ surpass her. Even when she peaked, they'd still have room to grow. She couldn't catch up. The Hokage shouldn't have and _hadn't_ wasted her time.

And that was what it was, right? A waste of her time?

Sakura's eyes burned. She gritted her teeth and whispered, "Don't be so pathetic, Sakura. Come on!" Easier said than done. No, no, that type of thinking wouldn't do. That was weak thinking. That was the type of thinking that made it so easy to get sick of her. "Pull it together. Pull it together – "

 _Clack, clack, clack._

Oh, thank the gods for Tsunade's high heels.

Sakura bit her tongue until the urge to cry had gone away. She'd managed to gather her bearings in time for Tsunade to enter the room. She looked as beautiful and strong as always, and Sakura felt a shiver of shame move through her simply by staring at Tsunade.

What a remarkable, powerful kunoichi. Everything that Sakura wished _she_ could be.

Tsunade cleared her throat. "Sakura. It's good to see you again. I see you haven't been slacking in your training."

Sakura looked to the side. She didn't really want to talk about training with her former teacher unless her former teacher was going to become her current teacher again. "I've been trying my best not to fall behind," She reported. "But it's – I…"

What would complaining do? It'd make her look like she was begging for Tsunade back (which she kinda was) or that she was attempting to guilt-trip the Hokage into mentoring her again (which she would do, had she the ability.)

Tsunade nodded in understanding. "You're stuck, am I right?" The Sannin crossed her arms. "It's been awhile. Your body is ready to advance, but your mind doesn't know how. You need a mentor to help you choose a specialty."

Against her will, hope was kindled in her chest. "Hokage-sama, you don't mean – " Tsunade shook her head. Sakura sighed. "Right, of course. I'm sorry to – you're busy, I know."

Still, that was a semi-scabbed wound torn right back open.

"When I told you that I believed in you," said Tsunade, voice suddenly so stern that Sakura had no choice but to be knocked out of her own self-pity. Her brown eyes were severe. "Did you think I was saying it to spare your feelings? I don't sugarcoat, Sakura, and I thought you knew that. I put my trust in your strength – inner and physical. You're resilient. You come out of bad situations better for it… or that's what I _thought_."

Sakura's heart pounded. "I – you did?"

"I chose you to be my pupil; to inherit my clan, the Senju's special techniques. Maybe I didn't have the capability to _keep_ you, but I still _chose you._ I ask that you respect that I knew what I was thinking when I did so."

The pinkette swallowed harshly.

"Don't cry."

Sakura swiped her arm across her face. "I won't!"

Tsunade sighed. "Sakura. We have talked about this."

"I know! I know, and I listened, and I'm not crying!"

"You – " Tsunade hissed through her teeth, shaking her head. "I didn't give up on you. That's all. You have potential; you still do, and the fact that you kept up with my training all these months proves what I already knew. Do you need a tissue?"

Sakura nodded meekly, accepting the tissue Tsunade produced for her. After wiping her eyes and blowing her nose, she asked, "So you didn't throw me away?"

"Of course not. I wouldn't waste my time like that. I started you on a path, I intend to make sure that you complete it." The Hokage raised her eyebrows; Sakura was grinning brighter than the sun. She decided to ignore it. "As you know, I cannot be your mentor and despite your talent with genjutsu, I trust that you're not interested in an apprenticeship under Kurenai?"

"No, ma'am. I am absolutely not interested."

Tsunade nodded, satisfied. "I've organized a mentor for you. Our styles are similar enough that you shouldn't have trouble adjusting to hers."

Sakura's heart might have grown wings and fluttered away. It certainly felt like that.

"There is," the Sannin interrupted Sakura's gratitude, which manifested as run-on sentences detailing that Sakura would do all that she could to be worthy of such an honour, and that she would definitely not disappoint, and so on and so forth, "a condition,"

"Name it!"

"The mentor in question is a prisoner of Konoha."

Sakura paused. It didn't make anymore sense after five seconds of silent consideration. "Excuse me, Lady Tsunade. Did you say that my mentor was a prisoner of Konoha?"

"No."

Sakura sighed. So she had misheard her after all –

"I said ' _is'_. Present tense. _Is_ a prisoner of Konoha,"

A chill went through her. A prisoner of the village? Present tense?! She was going to be taught by a criminal! "I'll learn techniques from a foreigner, Hokage-sama?" Hopefully, no one would blame her for having a shaky voice.

I mean, _criminal._ C'mon.

"Well, no. I wouldn't let a foreign shinobi anywhere near you, Sakura. The prisoner was born and raised in Konohagakure,"

That left one option. "Treason, ma'am? What was their sentence?"

"Ordinarily, it would be execution," Said Tsunade. Sakura shuddered. That was the ultimate punishment. Who _was_ this person? "But given the prisoner's heritage and unique abilities, the council saw fit to sentence the prisoner to life in solitary confinement. When her skills are necessary to ensure the safety of the village, she's called upon to advise. Otherwise, the village just tries to forget about her existence."

As cruel as that sounded, to Sakura, it was too good to be true. Treason of the highest order was a one-way trip to execution town. The fact that the prisoner was alive at all was a miracle. That she could be called upon for consulting?

 _Whoa_.

"Who is this person, Hokage-sama?"

Tsunade looked every single year of her age as she answered, "One of the most infuriatingly intelligent kunoichi the village has ever produced. Jiraiya called her my 'evil twin sister' when we were children. Her actual name is Denatsu."

Sakura's jaw was surely touching the ground.

Misunderstanding, Tsunade nodded solemnly. "I know. Our dad wasn't that creative with names."

"Um – "

"You'll be perfectly safe. Denatsu is completely covered in seals which will dampen her strength, although given the nature of her chakra we'll have to renew them every couple hours otherwise she'll burn through the ink. There will be a complete ANBU squad monitoring her at all times, so if she decides to act out, you'll be moved to a secure location. You won't be harmed, Sakura. Use this opportunity to become strong and don't think about anything else, alright? This will be good for you."

"Not to offend, Hokage-sama, but isn't this a bit – "

"...unorthodox? Yes, definitely. But as unfriendly as my sister is," and Sakura repeated that word in her head, ' _unfriendly,'_ and wondered if the Hokage realized what an understatement it was for the situation, "she is still my sister. I have the power to give her one last chance to prove herself as someone who isn't completely horrible. That's why you're here, Sakura. I trust you."

Tsunade smiled encouragingly. She punched Sakura's shoulder, numbing it completely. Sakura ignored her now-limp arm and tried to comprehend the flood of information as fast as she could. It proved to be challenging. She gave herself another five seconds.

Then another.

Then, like, eight more seconds. To be safe.

Finally, her brain managed to churn out a summary of the situation. Sakura pressed her palms together and then to her mouth. Breathe, Haruno, breathe. "So basically, I'm community service for your evil twin sister,"

Tsunade shrugged. "Personally, I consider you to be her final chance at redemption. It sounds better. But – yeah, 'community service' works as well."

' _SERIOUSLY?!'_

"You'll meet her everyday on Training Ground 23 at eight am, okay? Even weekends. Starts on Monday. Good luck, kid. My sister's a real piece of work."

"H-Hokage-sama…?"

Tsunade was already halfway out the door, waving goodbye. "I have to go, I'm really quite busy, but before I leave… a word of advice? _Don't_ ask about the treason thing. It doesn't set her off exactly, but she gets really bitchy and unpleasant. _More_ unpleasant. Thank you so much for doing this. I believe in you!"

"Hokage-sama, wait!"

SLAM. Sakura ran to the door and flung it open, only to find the hallways completely empty of any and all Fifth Hokages. Defeated, Sakura covered her face with her hands and groaned. What was she going to _do?!_

* * *

 **o.o.o**

* * *

Tenten dragged a kunai across the sharpening stone.

"You _have_ to ask about the treason thing."

Ino nodded. "That's a given,"

"It must be pretty bad if she could have gotten executed for it!" Tenten put the sharpened kunai to the side.

Ino handed her a blunted one, restarting the cycle. "There's only a few instances of treason bad enough for immediate execution. Do you think she sold village secrets? Stole from another clan? Dojutsu theft? Friendly fire? Sabotage?"

"I'm putting my money on dojutsu theft," Said Tenten. "If she's the Shodaime's granddaughter, then she pretty much has it all, right? All except a dojutsu. Plenty of motive there."

"Village secrets are always so juicy though. I'll go for that one."

Sakura rested her chin on her palm and muttered, "You two are insane," Ino scoffed and flipped her hair. "It was obviously sabotage. She's in the perfect position for it."

Tenten huffed. "Right, well, it depends entirely on how old she was when she was imprisoned, doesn't it? Because if she was imprisoned _after_ the war, it narrows down our options. _During_ the war, and there's a billion things she could have been killed for,"

Ino said smugly, "Village secrets. A constant winner."

"Sabotage fits in there as well, Pig."

Meekly, Hinata said, "U-Um… d-didn't Hokage-sama t-tell you not to a-ask about the… the t-t-treason th-thing?"

"We're not asking her about it, so it's okay, isn't it?" Sakura poached mochi from Ino's plate and shoved it in her mouth. "Speculation among friends is fine. No one's getting hurt,"

Hinata twiddled with her thumbs. Tenten began to sharpen her blunted shuriken. "Dojutsu theft loses its shine during war time, but post-war? There's no better time to try. The casualties are so high that a corpse missing an eye or two isn't that unusual – "

"Is it insensitive to talk about this in front of Hinata?" Wondered Ino, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

" _Or at all_ , considering the whole… you know… Uchiha thing?"

"A bit," said Hinata, seemingly in response to both questions. "Can we… n-not discuss dojutsu th-theft?" It sounded fair. Sakura had no problem with that, and neither did the other girls. It relaxed Hinata enough that she dared to offer her own opinion on matters. "I-I think that… that it w-was… two c-crimes…not just the o-one,"

Tenten blinked. Then she cursed and threw a shuriken across the room. It landed with a dull thunking sound. It managed to startle Hinata half out of her skin. "Damn it! Why didn't I think of that?! It could have been village secrets _and_ sabotage!"

Sakura said, "But not dojutsu theft," while Ino cheered, "so either way you lose, Tenten. Hinata, thank you and congratulations."

Hinata smiled. Ino dropped a mochi in her hand and said, "Eat up, winner. You deserve it."

"T-Thank you."

Tenten looked to Sakura. "Seriously though. What are you planning to do? I mean, how do you even handle a situation like this? I don't think it's ever happened before."

"And we all know you're useless if you don't have a textbook reference to go off from," said Ino. Sakura slapped her shoulder but the blonde continued cheekily, "I think you should show this lady who's boss around here. Remind her that she has no power over you so she doesn't try anything fishy."

Sakura hummed. "You think so?"

"Yes,"

"No way!" Tenten shook her head wildly. "This is a _criminal_ we're talking about. And Lady Tsunade's sister to boot! Not only will she be dangerous, but she must know a lot about shinobi techniques. _Senju techniques_ that Lady Tsunade can't teach you since she's so busy. You should keep your head down and learn everything that you can from her. You can't let this opportunity go to waste!"

"She's a criminal, Tenten. You said so yourself."

"Obviously, don't listen to _everything_ she says," Tenten rolled her eyes. "Be selective. But don't cause a fuss. I wish I had the opportunity you have. She may not be Lady Tsunade, but she's the closest anyone could ever get..."

"I would happily trade places with you," Sakura hurried to say, "just say the word and I'll do it. I'd rather train with Gai-sensei for the rest of my life if it meant I didn't have to train with Denatsu."

Hinata tilted her head. "R-Really?"

"Heck yeah!"

"You told me that you were getting bored," said Ino.

"W-Well, that was before – all of this."

"Gai-sensei would love to train with you for the rest of your life," Tenten gave her a thumbs up. "He loves you, Sakura. You work hard. I'm sure if you really don't want this, you can tell Lady Tsunade and become an official member of the team. Somehow. Make the sessions permanent and – "

Sakura slammed her fist into her palm, filled with fiery determination to be anywhere but right next to Rock Lee every day for five hours (not including Mondays and Thursdays.) "I am going to learn _so freaking much_ from Denatsu _!_ "

Tenten sung: " _Knew it._ You should be more thankful, Sakura. You're super lucky."

"I could have told you that, Tenten. Look at her teammates. Honestly, being paired with Sasuke-kun…" Ino trailed off. Sakura was not amused by the mention of her former teammate by name, and it showed in the way her expression totally fell. She looked _crushed_. Ino winced. "Ah, damn. Sorry, Forehead, I completely forgot – "

Oddly enough, that didn't seem to be helping Sakura, who was now – once again – on the verge of tears.

"Can I ask a question? Why isn't your sensei, Hatake Kakashi, available to train you?"

Sakura looked at Tenten. Ino looked at Tenten. They both had an equal amount of gratitude in their eyes. "I, um… don't know, actually. Kakashi-sensei and I – it's tricky. We don't have the same style. He found it hard to mentor me."

"He knows one thousand jutsu. I doubt he didn't have one that suited you."

Sakura flushed. "He tried, okay? It's just, my teammates, they're very overwhelming. In comparison, I was too – " Forgettable. Average. Ordinary. Weak. " – independent. I didn't need him hovering so he didn't."

"Sounds like you needed him to."

"It looks bad from an outsider's point of view," Sakura said tersely, "It's different when you're apart of it."

"I meant what I said about you being welcome in Team Gai," said Tenten, looking unconvinced of Sakura's defence of her sensei. Her shuriken scraped along the stone swiftly and without hesitation. Tenten knew how to handle her weapons. "Anytime, Sakura. We love you there,"

"E-Even Neji-niisan?"

"Even Neji,"

"Even _Lee?_ " Ino leered.

Tenten grinned wickedly. "Oh, _especially_ Lee. Did Sakura tell you that he asked her out again?"

Ino's eyes positively lit up. Sakura kicked Tenten under the table. "You guys are no help at all! How am I even supposed to deal with Denatsu tomorrow?! Isn't that more important?"

"You'll act impulsively anyway," Ino muttered. "You pretend to like following plans and rules but you act on your gut instincts most of the time. It's a Team 7 thing. There's no point in us discussing it anymore if it isn't helping."

Sakura gaped. Hinata mumbled, "I think I-Ino-san just wants to k-know how Lee-san as-asked you out…"

Ino pointed at the Hyuuga. "That as well, yeah,"

"You guys suck," Sakura hissed, stealing the last mochi. She markedly did not interrupt Tenten's dramatic recount of last week's Lee Incident.

Ino _might_ have had a point.

* * *

 **o.o.o**

* * *

"You're pinker than I was expecting."

Sakura screamed and whipped around with a kunai at the ready. She had been going through her warm-up stretches in blissful silence after having run around the village with Gai. Without a clock nearby, Sakura had no way of knowing what time it was. Her internal clock told her it was eight o'clock on the dot.

Punctual. Noted.

"Are you – are you Denatsu-san?"

"Obviously. You are?"

Denatsu was an average-sized woman with pale skin and limp blonde hair, tied unenthusiastically in a messy braid. Her eyes were the same shade as Tsunade's but appeared darker for some mysterious reason (Sakura suspected the 'evil twin sister' theory) and were set narrowly in her face. She seemed either perpetually suspicious or like the sun was always getting in her eyes. It was anyone's guess.

Her dark brown pants and purple halter neck shirt fit loosely on her body. Sakura couldn't imagine she received three square meals every day, or that prison food was the most nutritional. The older woman was suffering from some obvious Vitamin D deficiency, and it seemed her muscles had slightly atrophied in some places – namely, her thighs and biceps. Her stance was weak, uneven.

Sakura could see no weapons on her, not even holsters for basic weaponry such as kunai and shuriken. What _was_ immediately visible were the black tattoos, blocky and rigid, nearly covering up all the skin of her hands. The tattoos clawed their way up Denatsu's neck, reaching for but never settling on her face.

Sakura gaped. Those were seals. Very _permanent_ -looking seals.

Still, despite the lack of anything outwardly threatening, there was a certain imposing air about Senju Denatsu. Something cloying and choking, like ash or perhaps the cautionary warmth of an open flame that cautioned you from sitting too close. Either way, it was intimidating as fuck.

"I'm Haruno Sakura, yes. It's a pleasure to meet you, Denatsu-san."

"Shishou."

"Shishou?"

Denatsu raised an eyebrow. It was less mocking than when Tsunade did it: rather, more impatient, preemptively disappointed. "I've been imprisoned for years but surely not long enough that you do not know what 'shishou' means."

Sakura swallowed, cowed. "You want me to call you shishou?"

"I am to be your mentor. Stop asking stupid questions." Denatsu frowned. She had a good face for that. "Tell me about yourself."

"Oh. Well, I'm Haruno Sakura. My likes include – "

"I don't care about your likes, Haruno. Tell me your strengths, weaknesses, your jutsu arsenal, your ambitions." It was said sharply, and Sakura flinched at the harshness of that tone. "You're a shinobi; your likes and dislikes and hobbies don't matter."

 _Gulp_.

"R-Right. My strengths are… I'm intelligent and my chakra control is above average, but I'm physically weak, have a small reserve of chakra, my stamina is low, and I don't have any clan benefits. For jutsu: Mystical Palm. Ambitions? I, uh, to catch up to my teammates in terms of strength."

If Denatsu was underwhelmed by any of that, she didn't show it on her face. "And who are your teammates?"

Sakura hesitated. Should she tell? One of her teammates was an Uchiha. What if Tenten's losing theory had some truth to it after all? Denatsu said mildly, "You are wasting my time."

Ouch. "Uchiha Sasuke,"

"Where is he?"

"Gone. He… he defected."

Denatsu didn't seem surprised. "I wonder," she murmured, before putting her hand on her hip. "The other?"

"Uzumaki Naruto. He was dead-last but after the academy, he really excelled." And no, this was _not_ said bitterly. It wasn't.

"He would, being an Uzumaki. Battle intuition runs in their blood."

Sakura blinked in surprise, not-bitterness gone from her in a second. "Naruto has a _clan_?"

"You haven't heard of the Uzumaki clan?" Denatsu huffed. "What _are_ you being taught these days? Where is Uzumaki?"

"Training outside the village with Jiraiya-sama. Did you know him? Jiraiya-sama?"

"Yes," was the short reply. "And your sensei?"

"Hatake Kakashi. He – "

"I've met him," said Denatsu. She elected not to elaborate. "You're a civilian kid?"

"Um, second generation. My parents are both shinobi."

"Grandparents?"

"Merchants from Iron."

"So you are at every disadvantage then," Denatsu tilted her head curiously. Her eyes seemed brighter with fascination, and she no longer looked at Sakura as if she were a bug squashed beneath her high heeled boot. "I'll assume Hatake doesn't care about your progress since you've stooped to the point of requiring my help,"

"That's not true! Kakashi-sensei cares about me! He just doesn't – "

"Understand your needs? A famous excuse to justify neglect. He is your teacher. It is his duty to teach. That he hasn't is a personal fault and you should hold him accountable; in fact, when I'm finished with you, you'll be cursing his name. Enough talk. Begin your training."

She was very concise, and not in the refreshingly straight-forward way of the Hokage. It was a clipped sort of way to speak. Cold and rusted. Sakura didn't know how to handle it. "You're not going to tell me what to do?"

"Not yet. Business as usual, Haruno. I'll adjust your regime after I've judged what you are capable of." It sounded fair enough. Sakura informed her new teacher of her regime and got to work.

By the end, she was breathless and pleasantly aching. She'd barely been hit by any of the rocks. Denatsu stood there with her arms crossed and her face thoughtful. "I see. What is it that you wanted to specialise in?"

Here, Sakura faltered. "That's the thing… I don't know. I learned Mystical Palm because I planned on apprenticing under Lady Tsunade and learning how to harness her strength, but now that I don't have her for a mentor, I'm floundering."

"You think you _could_ learn it? Strength augmentation?"

"I do,"

"Even though you're only a second generation kid who's practically a civilian?"

"... Even then. I'm not giving up on my dreams! That's why I need a mentor. I need to know which way to go,"

The descendent of the Senju clan narrowed her eyes. "That's a weak ambition. You need to set your own path,"

That was an arrow through the heart.

Before an argument could begin, the Senju woman continued, "You need somewhere to start, I understand that much. I'll teach you my techniques. When we reach a certain stage, I'll expect you to pave your own way. I'm not like my sister: my style relies on subtlety, precision, and agility. Tsuna taught you to square your shoulders and plant yourself like a tree, yes? Unlearn that."

"You have been taught how to be a hero, a warrior, someone people should look up to. No. That's not how it works. I will teach you how to be a shinobi, for better or for worse."

Finally. _Finally._

"Eat. Drink. Return here when you are finished, and your training will begin. I will return to my cell at ten o'clock tonight: your strengths will be cultivated for as long as I breathe free air. You will have little time to yourself."

"As long as I get stronger, I'll endure whatever it takes." Sakura bowed deeply. "Thank you very much, Denatsu-shishou!"

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.


	3. Sakura Gets Buff

Anime/Manga » Naruto » **Persephone's Harvest**  
Notes: Fic has some crack elements taken seriously. You were warned.  
Chapter: 3/?  
Summary: As Hokage, Tsunade is too busy to train Sakura the way she needs. As it happens, she has a twin sister with sufficient enough skill to mentor Sakura in her place. An _evil_ twin sister, that is. [OC. Crack taken seriously. Sakura-centric.]

* * *

 **o.o.o**

* * *

Training with Denatsu was both better and worse than anything Sakura had experienced before.

Denatsu fought dirty _._ And _viciously_. She was fluid in battle; one action carried into another until it seemed as if she were dancing to a tune she'd known her entire life. There was a certain amount of flexibility involved in the way she moved; a willingness to maneuver yourself into tight spots with the expectation of getting out of them.

Sakura bent in ways she was not aware she could. She thought for sure that she would break bones learning this.

"You will at some point," Denatsu had said, before putting Sakura through the dance-like kata once again.

On ninjutsu, Sakura was taught small ones. Nothing that could wipe out entire armies, but small tricks, disruptive jutsu. The ability to split open a small canyon in the earth barely large enough to take down four people, a genjutsu in the ear that affected balance, the faster way to conjure up a puddle of mud in front of someone. Stuff like that. Mostly, Denatsu was insistent upon the use of poison. Her taijutsu relied on it, and since Denatsu primarily used taijutsu to fight, Sakura ended up consulting Ino quite a bit.

"Sounds like I could benefit from Denatsu's teachings," The blonde laughed.

Ino was a gymnast herself, and proficient with the poisonous flowers her family's shop granted her; but Ino wasn't brutal or physically strong enough for what Sakura was learning. And Denatsu wouldn't be interested in training a clan kid anyway.

* * *

The strength training was sidelined for speed. "It isn't about how hard you hit," Denatsu counselled, "It's about landing as many hits as possible. Poison, Haruno, remember?"

"How fast do you need me to be?"

"Let your rapidity be that of the wind. Not only will you be swift, but you will be invisible. Leave no tracks."

And so, Sakura consulted with Lee, who was the fastest shinobi she knew. He was happy to assist her when she was free, and although she was nowhere close to matching him for speed, her progress was amazing. There was nowhere hard work wasn't getting her.

* * *

"You cannot shut your ears to the thunder or your eyes to the lighting – so rapid are they. Likewise, your attacks should be so swift they cannot be parried."

"How do you move so quick?" Sakura asked, and Neji told her, "I know where I want my fists to land, and I do not hesitate."

* * *

Some things, Sakura's friends could not assist with.

"In battle, leave an exit open." Only, not to let the enemy escape. The objective, as she put it, was, "to make him believe that there is a road to safety, before you destroy his hopes and replace them with the sluggishness of despair." Denatsu added pleasantly: "After that, you can crush anyone."

It didn't sound very Konoha to Sakura. She knew her friends would agree with her on that. She kept it to herself. Any lesson was one worth learning, no matter what her friends might think. Shinobi didn't have morals like other people did; Sakura was coming to understand that.

While teaching Sakura how to make camp as unobtrusively as possible, Denatsu was saying, "There is no point in respecting the fighting spirit of an enemy. In battle, avoid what is strong and strike at what is weak. Don't allow your opponent time to impress you."

"Lee would hate to hear you say that," said Sakura.

"Rock Lee curries for the acknowledgement of his strength from all parties. He banks his life on being spared by opponents who respect his work ethic." The wood started smoking. Denatsu blew at the tinder until it caught on fire. "If it weren't for his teammates, he would have died on his first C-rank."

"Lee's plenty strong enough to stand on his own!"

Denatsu fed the flames and paid no mind to Sakura's offense. "Not everything is about strength, Haruno."

And to her teacher, not everything was. Denatsu fought much like a Hyuuga: attacking vitals, pressure and chakra points, poisoning the blood stream with the glancing touch of her fingertips. Or maybe she was more like a snake, with lightning strike attacks and venomous fangs.

Whatever she was, there was no denying that Denatsu would have been an invaluable shinobi in her prime. She was a magnificent teacher, both in the physical arts and the mental. She also did wonders for Sakura's perception of self; Denatsu did not tolerate Sakura's wallowing or any instance of self-pity, claiming that it was the same as deliberately blunting a kunai.

(The whole 'shinobi-are-tools' thing was still happening, yeah, but since Denatsu had a point, Sakura didn't argue. Even though she did not agree in the slightest.)

"She's not that bad," Sakura reported to her Hokage. She still attended the medic nin lessons, especially since Denatsu encouraged them. "Shishou teaches me many things. She's patient in her own way."

Tsunade chuckled. "She likes you well enough, I suppose. You should ask her about sealing techniques, kid. Maybe she'll teach you."

"Shishou knows fuinjutsu?!"

"She learned it from me. We were sisters; I wanted to share what I could with her. She doesn't use the knowledge for anything, but she _does_ possess it. If she trusts you, she'll teach it to you."

Sakura wrinkled her nose. "But Shishou doesn't trust anyone…"

"She might trust you," Tsunade shrugged. It wasn't very reassuring. She patted Sakura's head. "Good work today, Sakura. I'm proud of you."

* * *

 **o.o.o**

* * *

"No."

"Shishou, _please._ "

"No. Now focus."

"I am focused! My bubble is fine!"

The bubble head thing was an exercise Denatsu invented when Sakura found out her chakra nature – water, which Denatsu had been pleased about. Something about maintaining a chakra bubble around her head that kept water out and refreshed the oxygen, allowing for underwater battles or assistance with ambushes. Sakura had asked why she couldn't just use a rebreather like everyone else did; Denatsu had told her to, " _shut up and listen to your teacher."_

"Don't you trust me, shishou?"

"No," Denatsu said flatly. "Do the exercise, Haruno. _Underwater._ Stop talking to me."

"But it's been seven months. Don't you think I'm ready for it?" Sakura stuck out her bottom lip. "It occurred to me a while ago that I barely know anything about you! Can't you teach me some fuinjutsu to make up for it?"

"There is nothing about me that you need to know," Denatsu narrowed her eyes. "All that matters is my efficiency as your teacher."

"But you won't even teach me fuinjutsu _._ It's – it's _fuinjutsu_ , shishou."

"It's dangerous."

"Everything you teach me is dangerous,"

Denatsu's forehead wrinkled a lot when she was mad. Right now, it was pretty damn wrinkled. Sakura was pushing something; she should start entertaining thoughts of retreating.

"Do you remember when you found out that Hatake's jutsu was dangerous for Uchiha to learn? How scared you were? And Rock Lee learning how to open the Eight Gates – when you found out what the consequences were of that technique, you were upset for days. You didn't understand why those men would teach their students techniques which could kill them, correct?"

Sakura furrowed her eyebrows. "But fuinjutsu doesn't _have_ to endanger me. Lee and Sasuke-kun didn't have that option."

Denatsu clicked her tongue, glared a bit, and pushed Sakura's head underwater.

That was the end of that conversation, then.

* * *

 **o.o.o**

* * *

"Is that Sakura? Hey, Sakura! I thought you were training?"

"Tenten. Mmm, I am. I'm having my twenty minute break." Sakura held up her plate of syrup-covered umeboshi. "I'm treating myself while shishou has her seals repainted. Hi, Temari-san."

"Sakura," Temari greeted. "Are you referring to the Hokage?"

"Ah, not quite. Her sister."

"The Hokage has a sister?"

"She's a criminal," Tenten snickered.

"Tenten!"

"What? I trust Temari. She's my sworn rival but, I trust her." She patted Temari's back. Temari endured it with a long-suffering look on her face. "Denatsu – that's her name – has this weird corrosive-like chakra. It messes with other people's coils, I heard."

"Yikes. Is that why it's sealed?"

Sakura saw no reason to be stingy now that Temari was already aware of this village secret. She sighed wearily. "Yeeeah. Shishou's chakra eats away at other chakra as well, so the seals have to be repainted twice every day otherwise she burns through them."

The sand kunoichi smirked. "That doesn't sound _so_ bad. I'm sure my little brother would love to have chakra like that."

"Doesn't the Kazekage-sama already kind of have chakra like that?"

Temari snorted. "Not that little brother. The other one. Kankuro."

"I'm glad he doesn't. His puppets are creepy enough," Sakura shuddered. Tenten looked to be in agreement. "Why aren't you with Shikamaru?"

"It's lunch. I'm taking a break from that kid," Temari wrinkled her nose. The other girls decided not to touch that one. "Now, I'm looking for a place that sells good chestnuts. Found Tenten on my way and haven't been able to shake her."

Tenten was unrepentant. "You get complacent when I'm not around," she teased, and Temari quietly laughed. As if she could ever be considered complacent. "Wanna come, Sakura?"

"I'm fine, you two go on ahead. I'm meeting Hinata here so I shouldn't move."

"Hinata?"

"She's helping me learn acupuncture. It's been fun so far. And painful. And pointy. But overall, really great. You should stop by while I'm training, Tenten. Shishou loves having you around."

That made the orphan girl blush. "Wow, really? I couldn't tell. I thought she hated me!"

"Shishou likes hard workers," Sakura said, and it was the truth. Just, half of it. No need to mention that Denatsu hated Tenten's pep. "She'd be happy to have you."

And if Tenten managed to distract her teacher sufficiently enough that Sakura was able to sneak off and avoid going back to training – Denatsu was _so_ hard to be around after she'd had her seals repainted – then that was an unforeseen bonus.

* * *

 **o.o.o**

* * *

One day, Sakura showed up at Training Ground 23 at 8:03am to an empty clearing. Sakura waited until the next hour arrived before she ran to the Hokage office. As much as she enjoyed her time under Denatsu's tutelage, Sakura did remember that she was a criminal. A powerful, treasonous criminal. If she wasn't here with Sakura, where _could_ she be? Had she broken free of her seals?

Lady Tsunade was pleased by her concern but told her to settle down. "Today is August 2. I assure you, I know exactly where my sister is."

"Hokage-sama?"

Tsunade pulled a dark golden bottle from a drawer and handed it to Sakura. The neck of the bottle had a dark pink ribbon around it: attached to that, a card that simply said, ' _For Natsu.'_ "When you visit her, could you give that to her from me? I'd do it myself, but I'm too busy."

"'Visit'? You want me to visit shishou?"

"I'm guessing she never told you where she lived. Don't take it personally. I didn't know she was my twin sister until we were three years old." As Sakura struggled to understand that statement, Tsunade scribbled an address down and folded the paper. Sakura accepted it dumbly. "If you could tell her that I'll be finishing early and can visit her tonight, that would be appreciated. Thank you, Sakura."

Sakura had no idea what was happening.

"O-Of course, Hokage-sama. Have a nice day."

Tsunade hummed pleasantly. "I think I will!"

Disturbed by the pep in her voice, Sakura swiftly left the room. She read the address and wasn't surprised to discover its close proximity to the Hokage's office. Better to keep the enemy of the village close and as far away from other residents as possible. Only orphans lived so close to the Hokage. Well, orphans and criminals.

It was a small one-story house. There were multiple fully-grown trees surrounding it, backyard included, like some sort of perimeter. Sakura peered into the foliage and waved at the porcelain mask pointed at her. "Can I go in?"

There was a blur; ANBU Usagi, now right in front of her, examined the contents of the bottle and the paper. When he gave them back to her, there was a key pressed into her palm. "Go ahead."

"Thanks!" Sakura knocked on the door. (You got used to the ANBU after a while.) "Shishou? Are you in there?"

No response.

"I didn't even know you _had_ a house! Why didn't you tell me?"

Nothing.

"Shishou, really. Can you let me in?"

Footsteps. Great, some progress. "No, I can't." Sakura pouted. Never mind, negative on the progress front. "I mean that literally. I don't have a key. Open the door yourself, Haruno." More footsteps, presumably away from the door.

Sakura turned. ANBU Panda nodded in confirmation. Huh, so that's what the key did. Sakura unlocked the door, leaving the key on the doormat as instructed – "we'll know when to let you out, kid" – and entered her teacher's home.

The walls were beige and bare. The floors were dirty carpet, cracked tiles in the kitchen. Everything had been sucked of any and all color. The couch was a two-seater set in front of a blocky television with its antenna bent out of shape. There wasn't much to it, honestly.

Sakura grinned. "This place is neat, shishou!" Denatsu, clad in an overly fancy dark pink kimono with furisode sleeves, looked at her disbelievingly. Did she catch Sakura's lie?

Wait, no, that wasn't it. Her feet were bare, and she was eyeing Sakura's shoes venomously. Sakura quickly kicked off her sandals and placed them symmetrically beside Denatsu's: notably worn, especially in comparison to Sakura's, which were newly bought.

"It's better than a cell," was Denatsu's response. She had all of her windows open, curtains pinned back to allow as much sunlight in as possible. The television was playing a commercial on a low, unobtrusive volume: background noise, sound simply to fill the silence. "Why are you here?"

"You didn't show up to training. I was concerned. Here." Sakura offered the bottle. "From Lady Tsunade."

"Umeshu," Denatsu muttered, accepting the bottle. She blinked rapidly in surprise. She read the tag, ' _For Natsu,'_ and made a contemplative noise. It almost sounded pleased. "From my sister?"

"She wouldn't tell me why. She also told me to tell you that she was finishing early tonight so she would be visiting?"

Catching onto Sakura's confusion, Denatsu explained, "August 2. It's our birthday; Tsunade told me that I could spend today however I wanted."

"It's your _birthday?!_ Oh, shishou, I had no idea! If I'd known, I would have bought you a gift. Or I would have just left you alone, you probably wanted this day to yourself, right? Do you want me to leave? Happy birthday, shishou!"

"Don't be absurd. Sit down." Denatsu looked at the plum wine and hummed. "Do you drink, Haruno?"

"N-Not really. My parents aren't comfortable with it."

"Would you like some?"

Sakura's ears went red. "U-Uh… I wouldn't want to impose – "

"You already have," was the mild reply, "Do you want a cup? You can say no. I don't particularly care."

Sakura sent a mental apology to her parents and said, "Yes please, shishou."

Denatsu looked approving. ' _Nice going, Sakura!'_ It was hard to remember due to their differing personalities, but considering who her sister was, it was not surprising that Denatsu had a certain appreciation for fine liquor. Denatsu only had two cups – a glass and a chipped teacup – and, after getting them to sit down at the small dining table, gave Sakura the teacup.

"It's sweet and smooth. You shouldn't have any trouble with it,"

Sakura took an experimental sip. It tasted like wine. And plums. Nothing at all surprising, though the sweetness was still a bit odd, considering how sour plums usually were. It wasn't – _bad_ exactly. Not at all. Sakura took another sip. Then another, in direct defiance to the way her body refused to feel any different. Maybe she had naturally fantastic alcohol tolerance?

"Slow down," advised Denatsu.

"I'm fine." Sakura listened anyway, taking a final drink before setting the teacup on her lap. "What are you planning on doing for your birthday, shishou?" To Sakura's horror, instead of answering, Denatsu downed her entire glass of plum wine in one shot. "S-Shishou! You said to drink slowly!"

"Do as I say, not as I do," was her response as she filled her glass again. "I _plan_ to do nothing. Maybe I'll tend to my garden. Maybe I'll build a fence. I don't know, I haven't thought it through,"

"You have a garden?"

"Look for yourself," Denatsu waved to the glass sliding door that led into her backyard. Sakura excused herself to look at the garden. It was a soil plot with four wilting tomato plants and nine peeled potatoes half-buried next to each other. The rows were uniform, which was the only nice thing Sakura could say about it. "It's a work in progress."

"This… isn't a garden."

"It's a garden," Denatsu smiled. "It's just not a very _good_ one."

She refilled her glass. Oh, god. When had she finished her second one?

Wait, had she just _smiled?_

Sakura watched in awe as Denatsu quickly finished her new glass. ' _No way, both the sisters are alcoholics? What are the chances of that?!'_

"Shishou, I think you should slow down."

"Have another one, Haruno."

"Shishou – "

"Relax, you don't have to finish it," Denatsu topped Sakura's teacup up until the wine was brimming on the edges. Sakura feared to breathe, afraid of spilling it. "But the more you drink, the less there is for me. Think on that, huh?"

She flopped down on her two-seater. Not a single drop spilled from her glass. Sakura slurped at her cup until the alcohol was down to a tolerable level and gingerly sat beside her teacher, who had foregone the pretenses of a glass and was drinking straight from the bottle. Sakura was pretty sure none of this was healthy.

"Soooo, Haruno… tell me about what you plan on doing today. You don't have any training. Are you going to hang out with your friends? The privileged scum?"

"T...The what?"

" _Priv-il-eg-ed scuuuuum_ ," Denatsu said slowly, really drawing it out. "The shy one, the shy one's brother, the blonde one, them."

"...Hinata? Neji? Ino? Do you mean them?"

Denatsu waved her hand dismissively. "And Tenten."

Unsure of what to say, Sakura stuck to what she knew. "Neji is Hinata's cousin, not her brother."

"Then why does she call him niisan for?"

"I have no idea, shishou."

"Were their parents twins?" Sakura nodded. "Well, there you go. Twins are interchangeable. He's practically their brother."

"Wouldn't he be their half-brother?"

A nod. "I had a half-brother. Nawaki. There's no difference between half and full," Denatsu sounded easy-going. Dreamy. Sakura realized that her teacher was a _happy drunk,_ and wasn't entirely sure what to do with that information; not only that, but her teacher was a _lightweight._ If she was already tipsy, then what would happen if she finished that bottle?

Sakura made a whimpering sound.

She couldn't handle that. She couldn't. "Is it wise to get drunk at nine in the morning?"

"Good thing I'm not drunk," said Denatsu. She sat up. "Do you still want me to teach you some fuinjutsu, Haruno?"

Sakura squawked, " _Yes!_ Why, are you offering? What made you change your mind? Right now?"

"Yes, I'm tipsy, and yes. But only if you go out and buy some more wine for me. I don't care about the quality. Deal?"

It was kind of irresponsible, but also: _fuinjutsu_. "Happily, shishou! Just sit tight and prepare those fuinjutsu techniques for me!" If allowing her teacher to drink herself into a stupor before noon was what it took for Sakura to learn fuinjutsu, then it was worth it.

* * *

 _KA-BOOM!_

Sakura and Denatsu coughed and waved the smoke out of the faces with their hands. "Good fifth attempt," said Denatsu. She dusted some burning paper from her shoulder and leaned in very close to whatever remained of Sakura's paper. She squinted at the ink. "You didn't even singe off your left eyebrow."

Sakura really couldn't afford to, since she'd already singed off her right one.

"You didn't put enough chakra in," said ANBU Panda. "You have to put more chakra in."

"I put too much chakra in last time and set the curtains on fire."

"They were ugly anyway," Denatsu laughed. It was no less startling than the first time she did it. "I'm glad to be rid of them."

"Regulate yourself better," ANBU Usagi advised. "You have the control. I could tell that much, even if I hadn't been watching you train for the past couple of months," which he had been, but that wasn't the point.

Sakura blushed and fiddled with the calligraphy brush. "Thanks, Usagi-san."

The ANBU had entered the house after Sakura's first explosive attempt at a sealing scroll, armed and prepared to murder a certain birthday grandma. Upon seeing that it was simply a fuinjutsu session, the ANBU settled in to supervise. Since Denatsu couldn't access any of her chakra, if Sakura really messed up, the ANBU would have to disarm the seal or move them from the premises.

On top of that, they were very patient teachers. Sakura was quite happy to have them. Denatsu, already halfway through her third bottle at three o'clock in the afternoon, made it clear that they were more than welcome inside her house. It was not how she thought her day was going to spent when she woke up this morning.

It was _better._

"Alright, attempt six. Let's go."

"You're not going to tell me how to improve?"

Denatsu snorted. "Psshaw, no way. You'll get it yourself. Eventually. Need more ink?"

"Um… yes."

"Trick question, no you don't. Okay, go!"

* * *

"Why is it _wet_?"

"Your chakra nature is water, what kind of question is that?"

"Denatsu-san. Is there nothing you can say to assist Sakura-chan?"

"I dunno, spread your ink evenly? Are you not doing that? You should be doing that. If it isn't even then your chakra won't distill properly, you know? That's basic stuff. Surely you knew that."

"This is my first time ever learning fuinjutsu, shishou. _I did not know that._ "

"Ah, well now you do. No harm, no foul. Attempt eighteen: go!"

* * *

Sakura belched and laid on the floor face-first. "I just – hic – I just wish Kakashi-sensei would – hic – _notice meeeee_! Why did he never – hic – never care about me like he cared for the – hic – boys? It isn't _faaaaaair._ "

Denatsu said, "Capitalism."

"C-Capitalism? How?"

Denatsu closed her eyes and said again, with more severity, " _Capitalism._ "

Sakura put her teacup down and breathed. "That… makes so much – hic – sense, shishou."

"Screw the system, Haruno."

Panda sighed. "Please don't spread treasonous propaganda, Denatsu-san. We will have to detain you."

* * *

"Shishou… can I ask about the treason thing?"

The blonde woman made a drawn-out humming sound of contemplation. "Nooooo, you cannot ask about the treason thing."

"Oh, okay." Sakura laid there in submissive silence. "But what was so – hic – bad that the village almost had you executed for it?"

"Treason."

"But what _kind_ of – hic – treason?"

"Not any kind that you should be interested in," said Denatsu, rolling to her feet. "Let's forget about the treason thing. Tell me about your teammates again. Which boy did you have a crush on? The happy one or the traumatised one?"

"The traumatised – hic – one."

"Well, _why?_ "

Sakura wailed, "I _don't know!_ " and began to cry. Again. It was becoming a pattern.

* * *

Tsunade entered the house to find her former-student asleep on the couch, nose red and cheeks tacky from tears. On the kitchen counter, cross-legged, was her fifty-two year old sister. Her hair was in two high pigtails and she'd thrown her kimono on the floor, bare in her binder and bike shorts. She was playing patty cake with ANBU Usagi.

Shizune, who was dogging Tsunade's steps, sighed resignedly. "It's only seven o'clock…"

And what did that have to do with anything? Nothing, as far as the Senju sisters were concerned. Tsunade produced a bottle of sake and a matching cup. "Give me a moment," She ordered the conscious occupants of the room, "to catch up. And _then_ we'll start having fun."

ANBU Panda sighed almost exactly the same way that Shizune had. "You can stay behind and look after Sakura if you don't want to come," Tsunade told him. "Since Shizune is coming with me, someone has to."

Panda nodded. "I'd prefer it, Hokage-sama."

"Wimp," Denatsu sung, waving Tsunade over. "C'mere, sister. Let's pretend we don't hate each other and hug it out, yeah?" They hugged it out. August 2nd was the only time of the year where both sisters elected to forget all the shit in their past and pretend that they were a completely functional family. "We bar crawling?"

"Yyyyup."

Denatsu poured Tsunade a cup. "Then drink up, Tsuna! We have places to be!"

"Happy birthday, Natsu."

"Ditto, ya old hag."

* * *

 **o.o.o**

* * *

Sakura woke up with a pounding headache.

And sweaty ears.

And a disturbingly limited access of oxygen.

Upon opening her eyes, the reason for that became apparent. Her head was somehow _between_ Tsunade's breasts. It was actually really disgusting and Sakura tore herself out of that situation with a grimace. _EW._ She'd slept in the Hokage's _cleavage._

"Gross," The hungover teen muttered, but soon found that sitting up was pretty difficult with her stomach spitting acid around like it was. Sakura returned her head to the Hokage's chest and groaned. "Whhhyyyyyyyy…" The Hokage snored obnoxiously. It rattled Sakura's skull.

Shuffling footsteps, blessedly quiet in nature. "Sakura, here."

"Shizune?"

"Raw eggs. It'll help."

Sakura was too grossed out to be even more grossed out by the raw eggs; she had reached her capacity for gross. She dealt with the chicken embryos swiftly and almost fell asleep again. Shizune laughed, leaving her to it. "Sleep while you can. It's August 3rd, so I think your shishou is going to want to train you."

There was no way. Denatsu had drunk more than any of them did, _combined._ There was absolutely no possible scenario where Denatsu was in any state to get out of her bed, let alone train Sakura for an entire day. Sakura wasn't having it.

Sakura dozed.

What felt like two seconds into her dozing, someone rolled her from Tsunade and straight onto the floor. "Up," said the cold, imperious tone of a sober Denatsu. "It's nearly eight. You have fifteen minutes to shower and eat, then we'll go to the training grounds."

" _Shishou, pleeeeeaaseee…_ don't do this to meeeee…"

"Fifteen minutes. Get moving, Haruno."

Sakura legitimately started crying. From the couch, there was a low chuckle. Sakura looked up. Tsunade was looking at her with no small amount of sadistic amusement. "You wanted to learn Senju techniques?" said the Hokage, "Training with a hangover is baby stuff. Up and at 'em, kid."

Life. sucked.


	4. Sakura Gets A Makeover

Anime/Manga » Naruto » **Persephone's Harvest**  
Notes: I forgot if I had a plot for this?  
Chapter: 4/6  
Summary: As Hokage, Tsunade is too busy to train Sakura the way she needs. As it happens, she has a twin sister with sufficient enough skill to mentor Sakura in her place. An _evil_ twin sister, that is. [OC. Crack taken seriously. Sakura-centric.]

* * *

 **o.o.o**

* * *

"Shishou! I'm coming in!"

"Don't," was the welcoming reply. Sakura unlocked the door, left the key on the doormat, and waltzed on in. Denatsu was at the bench, attempting to make herself something to eat. It was salad. It was the only thing she knew how to prepare that didn't require sharp utensils. "Why knock if you won't listen?"

"Manners." Sakura sat on the kitchen counter. "I passed by the way."

"Okay."

"I'm a chūnin now!"

"O- _kay_ ,"

"I delivered a few blood clots to, um, nearly all of the contestants." The strength wasn't a Thing for Sakura, but short controlled bursts of chakra from her fingertips upon contact? She had that down.

That teased a smile out of her. "No heart attacks?"

"None. Lots of deep vein thrombosis though. Have you been doing this for the past two weeks?"

Denatsu side-eyed her. "It's none of your business. Get off my bench; food goes there." Sakura slid off the counter. "As soon as I finish my salad, we're going to train."

"You're kidding right? Right?" She was not kidding. "...I'll go and change. Can I use your shower?"

"No," said Denatsu, except Sakura was already halfway to the bathroom. Denatsu let her; she'd pay the chūnin back for the disrespect by making her run laps on her hands. That'd show her.

* * *

 **o.o.o**

* * *

"I expected you to lose your patience with this by now."

"If I can suffer through shogi with Shikamaru – "

"Shogi that you _lose at_?"

" – then I can deal with this."

Yamanaka Ino, otherwise known as Sakura's favourite person to be on a mission with (or be around in general), was doubtful. Today's mission – or technically, _tonight's_ mission – was basic infiltration and intel retrieval. Ino and Sakura had similar enough ways of fighting that synchronising wasn't hard, so they were paired for most assignments, though it was a big hit on variety; thankfully, that's what Kiba was there for.

"You have to admit," Ino broke off as a guard patrolled through their area. The kunoichi kept their silence until he was well out of earshot. "It's taking him suspiciously long."

"It's okay."

" _Is_ it?"

Usually, no. But Denatsu had spent far too long emphasising the benefits of subtlety and patience for _none_ of it to go to her head. "I can wait a little longer,"

If it wouldn't have literally killed her, Ino might have giggled. "I bet you'll snap in – "

Alarms blared through the mansion. Sakura couldn't deny herself a smug look directed at the blonde, who rolled her eyes. Ino surrendered her opportunity to reply, sealing her lips as a squadron of mercenaries and ronin flooded the halls, seeking the intruder. As soon as Ino signed 'clear,' the kunoichi were off. Ino dealt with the left wing, Sakura the right.

' _I hope Kiba is okay,'_ Sakura had been the one to volunteer him for distraction duty. He was flashy, loud, and Akamaru was with him. He was infinitely more qualified for the job than Ino or Sakura. ' _Neji will help him if necessary.'_

Neji was handling the other half of the distraction. The mansion owner, Hisoka, was a jōnin level ronin. If the kunoichi wanted any chance of actually retrieving the important documents from Hisoka's office, they kind of needed him to _not be in it._ Also, they had no idea where the office was so they needed time to search.

" _Our intel sucks."_

Sakura pressed the radio in her ear. "Pig. No chatter."

" _I'm just saying…"_ Sakura slid into a room. There was a four-posted bed in the middle, samurai armour displayed proudly on the wall. Sakura made an interested noise. " _Did you find it?"_

"No, just the master bedroom. Is it bad that I want to steal some of his stuff?"

" _It's kind of our job, Billboard Brow."_

Sakura rolled her eyes. "His old samurai uniform. It's sitting right there. Polished to perfection. I'm tempted."

" _Whatever you do, don't steal the sword. Don't want to see if that superstition is true. Just find the office."_

Sakura pressed her lips together. "I'm taking the sword."

" _Oh my god."_

Sakura took the sword. She didn't plan on using it – she wasn't an idiot – but she saw no harm in robbing a ronin of his weapon. It was the safest option.

" _Aha, bingo! Meet me over here, will you? I'll be needing your storage scrolls."_

Ino told Sakura where she was, giving startlingly accurate directions. They stored the paper trail and recorded what they couldn't afford to remove from the premises. From their radios was a crackle and an explosion, followed by Kiba's rough laughter. It sounded a bit nervous. " _Ya girls finished or what? Because these guys just called reinforcements and me and Akamaru are going to have to abort soon."_

"Abort now. We have what we need. Neji?"

" _We'll meet at the rendezvous point."_ Their jōnin leader said, short and sweet. Akamaru barked. Sakura assumed it was a good bark. The kunoichi cleared the mansion, awaiting the rest of their team at the rendezvous point.

Ino returned from setting up the traps (extremely poisonous, to both of their satisfaction) and scoffed at the sight of Sakura covering their tracks. "I don't know how Denatsu lets you get away with that. Isn't she all about subtlety?"

"What?"

"A bright red halter neck shirt does not a ninja make."

"Oh, yeah. I wanted a qipao dress," Sakura admitted. "But shishou said it was too restrictive of my movements, but the only way I'd take the shirt is if it were red. We compromised."

Ino shook her head, smirking. She was wearing the darkest purple she could; otherwise her outfit was not much different from usual. "Unbelievable, Forehead. _Un-believable._ "

"You're literally wearing _perfume_ to a stealth mission. You cannot judge me."

"I'm not! That's just my body wash!"

"Why would you use scented body wash before a mission?"

"You're wearing _bright red_ – "

There was a loud rustling noise from the bush, followed by the much more controlled footsteps of their team leader. Akamaru licked Ino and Sakura hello, while Kiba just chose to say, with very human words, "Yo. Can one of you girls heal me? Think I pulled a muscle."

"I can," Sakura was the faster healer. Ino dealt with Neji, whose fight was arguably harder than Kiba's, and definitely went on for longer. "Here, Neji. All we could find."

"Thank you. Is Kiba fit for travel?"

Sakura removed her hands and nodded, brushing her hair from her eyes. "Just a pulled hamstring."

Kiba snorted. "Thanks. Were you two talking about clothes this entire time? I heard some of the conversation."

The best friends shared a look. "What? We like clothes."

Neji sighed but didn't scold them. They had, after all, fulfilled their duties. "You didn't encounter any problems?" He asked as they began jumping through trees like a troupe of colourful monkeys.

"Sakura stole a samurai sword?"

Akamaru barked disappointedly. Kiba shook his head. "Don't you know it's bad luck to take a samurai's sword?"

Sakura was unrepentant. "It was just _sitting there._ I couldn't leave it!" But her team didn't quite understand where she was coming from, even though she wasn't intending on _using_ it. They had strange moral codes for a bunch of lying, thieving, murderous tools. Honestly.

After they reported to Tsunade and Sakura stopped by her teacher's still-very-bare home, Denatsu ran her fingers across the blade and smiled; sober-Denatsu's smile was more of a widening of her eyes and the straightening of her lips, which were set in a near-constant scowl. A smile was a smile.

"When I was twenty-four, I stole the armour from a fallen samurai and wore it for eighteen months without issue."

Sakura blinked. Her first thought was, ' _So she was older than twenty-_ _five_ _when she went to jail!'_ And then she registered the oddly warm look on her teacher's face, and flushed with pleasure. "Guess I take after you more than we realised!"

"It seems so," Said Denatsu, and there wasn't a hint of vinegar in her tone.

Sakura felt like preening. Her teacher might hate everyone in the village, but she didn't hate Sakura. It was crazy how proud of that she was.

* * *

 **o.o.o**

* * *

"I half expect you to come home wearing black lipstick."

" _Mom_."

Mebuki made a wobbly motion with her spatula, presumably to mean ' _what else am I supposed to think?'_ "Side bangs, Sakura. Since when have you liked side bangs?"

"I think it looks nice," Kizashi offered. "It suits you."

Sakura grinned. "Thank you, Dad."

"I'll support anything you do, Sakura. Except black lipstick. Or eyeliner. Please don't start wearing eyeliner." Kizashi said it while laughing so Sakura assumed he meant it in good humour.

Mebuki tutted. "It's bad enough you aren't even wearing a qipao – "

"It's not that big a deal," Sakura's dad assured her. Sakura shrugged. _She_ knew that.

"But black is where I draw the line!"

"I'm a shinobi, Mom. I'll have to wear black at some point."

Mebuki was not satisfied. Kizashi cheekily suggested, "All you have to do is wear the darkest shade of midnight blue and your mother will be happy,"

" _No dark colours._ Gosh, Sakura. I'd like to recognise you when you come home."

"Don't be so dramatic, dear. They're just side bangs."

Sakura placed her chopsticks down and smiled crookedly. "Would you be happier if I wore a headband or something?"

" _No_!"

But Kizashi was nodding. "Probably,"

Sakura snickered and her father winked. Mebuki (and the sunny side up eggs she was cooking) sizzled. "What would make me happy," she huffed, "is if I actually _met_ your teacher!"

"Impossible," Sakura said quickly. "Shishou is a misanthrope. You'd hate her."

"And I should let a misanthrope mentor my daughter?"

"Oh, dear. Sakura's becoming a wonderful kunoichi. Isn't that enough?"

"Certainly not! Bring her over for dinner, Sakura," Mebuki angrily served breakfast. Burnt eggs. Delicious. "It's about time I got to know the woman my daughter is spending so much time with."

"But – "

" _Thursday_ , Sakura. Seven o'clock on the dot."

Sakura moaned and ducked her head. Her father patted her hand sympathetically.

Sakura was _so dead_.

* * *

 **o.o.o**

* * *

"How is it, having my princess of a sister as your teacher?"

Denatsu wasn't happy; typical, since her seals were just renewed. Sakura bit into her umezuke and thought of the most inoffensive way to reply. On the topic of Tsunade, Denatsu was famously volatile.

She settled on, "It's better than having Shizune teach me. All I remember from those lessons is that the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell."

Denatsu looked like she'd bitten into a sour peach. "That child is exactly like her damned uncle."

Huh. "You knew Shizune's uncle?"

"He was to be my brother-in-law, so yes. Honestly, Sakura: and you call yourself a ninja. You've known the girl for years and you didn't know why Tsuna let her tag along?"

"I didn't want to step on any toes?"

Unimpressed, Denatsu flicked a stone. It connected with Sakura's bare forehead. She really should start wearing her hitai-ate there or something. "You're still so soft."

"You're the one who tells me that if I can't trust my teammates, I shouldn't be on the field! I maintain good relationships with my peers, which includes not asking about their past,"

Denatsu wouldn't roll her eyes; she considered herself far too sophisticated for such a plebeian action. But she totally wanted to, Sakura could tell. "Haruno, you are pathetic."

At this point, it was practically a term of endearment. Sakura quickly finished her snack and licked her fingers clear of syrups, wiping them on her shorts after. She climbed to her feet, limbering up. "Are you ready to continue, shishou?" She sure was.

Denatsu lifted her arm. It flopped back to the ground tiredly. "A little longer," She said, as evenly as her obvious frustration would let her.

Whatever progress she made burning through the seals throughout the day, slowly letting her chakra back into her body and feeling that _power_ again, meant nothing when the seals were renewed. Suddenly, the chakra was repressed, and Denatsu was useless for half an hour as her body acclimated. One step forward, four steps back.

"Can I ask about the treason thing yet?"

Denatsu closed her eyes. "Run laps, Haruno."

Sakura screwed her lips to the side. "It was only a question!"

"Twenty of them. Your stamina would make arthritic grandmothers weep."

Denatsu was fifty-two and had trouble with her knees; technically, _she_ could be considered an arthritic grandmother. Sakura, who was proud to note that she _wasn't_ an idiot, kept this thought to herself. "My mom wants you over for dinner, by the way. Thursday. Seven o'clock on the dot. Please try not to make her hate you?"

Denatsu didn't open her eyes. "I don't care what your mother thinks of me. I'll show up if I'm not busy. _Laps_ , Haruno."

"You can't call me that when you visit, shishou. Everyone is a Haruno."

" _Thirty_."

"I'll ask my mom if she can make something plum-y for you; I know you like plums!"

"I _will_ make it thirty-five if you don't shut up."

Sakura shut up. Denatsu made it forty anyway, just to make herself feel better.

* * *

 **o.o.o**

* * *

When Denatsu showed up at seven wearing a black jumpsuit and dark purple lipstick, Sakura's self control almost snapped, and for a moment, there was nothing she wanted more than to knock out her teacher's front teeth. She was aghast. And horrified. And so _angry_ it was paralysing.

"If your mother doesn't like me at my worst, she won't like me at all." Said the older woman. She did not seem affected by the embarrassed tears in Sakura's eyes. "By the way: stop ordering me around, Haruno."

Speechless, Sakura stared.

"Sakura, is that her?"

" _Wait_ , Mom – "

Mebuki appeared in the doorway. She was taller than Denatsu by a good few centimetres, and thicker too. But Denatsu's jumpsuit was sleeveless, showcasing her lean arms and the nasty scar that went down her right shoulder. It was pretty obvious which one was more dangerous. Mebuki hardly faltered. "Denatsu-san?"

"Haruno Mebuki."

Mebuki battled with the urge to be polite and the urge to drill the woman at her door. Clearly, she was not sure how to handle Denatsu, who was not maternal or accommodating in the slightest. Eventually, she said, "... Black?" It was the least articulate Sakura had witnessed her mother.

"Yes."

Sakura covered her face. Shishou _knew_ how her mother felt about appearances, how she felt about _Sakura's_ appearance. The forsaking of the Haruno qipao was bad enough; that Sakura would abandon the colour red, Kizashi's colour? It was a matter of clan pride. Mebuki was wary enough of the influence Denatsu so clearly had over her daughter. To show up in an unwelcoming outfit with an unwelcoming attitude? It kind of hurt.

Mebuki cleared her throat. "You're not going to make my daughter wear that, are you?"

Denatsu replied placidly, "I tried. Haruno is too attached to red."

That made the mother preen. "Well, of course she is. That's Haruno red we're talking about!"

Denatsu didn't offer an apology. "I don't much care about clan politics."

' _Damn it. Shishou, why?'_ She didn't have to be so callous! Why was she being so difficult?!

"You're a descendent of the Shodaime," said Mebuki, frowning, "you can afford to. For others – for the Haruno – we are not so privileged."

Denatsu blinked. Startled. She tilted her head, the same light in her eyes as the first time she met Sakura, like she was regarding you from a different angle; it was a look that said, _alright, so you_ _can_ _be interesting._

Denatsu extended her hand, eyes narrowed, and Sakura watched, feeling like her world was rapidly rearranging itself, as her mother shook it concisely. Mebuki's grip was firm. The light in Denatsu's eyes grew brighter. "We shouldn't talk about things like this at the front door. Come in, the salmon kobayaki is almost ready. We can have a cup of tea while it cooks."

"Of course."

Denatsu entered the house a welcomed guest. Sakura lingered in the open doorway, catching flies in her mouth. "Dear, close the door, would you? You're letting in a draft!"

Oh, was _that_ what was happening?

"S-Sorry Mom!"

Sakura was so very, very lost.


	5. Denatsu's TragicTM Backstory

Anime/Manga » Naruto » Persephone's Harvest  
Notes: Backstory time!  
Chapter: 5/6  
Summary: As Hokage, Tsunade is too busy to train Sakura the way she needs. As it happens, she has a twin sister with sufficient enough skill to mentor Sakura in her place. An evil twin sister, that is. [OC. Crack taken seriously. Sakura-centric.]

* * *

 **o.o.o.**

* * *

1.

There's nothing wrong with you. You were just born different.

Denatsu already knew that. She didn't ask the question because she needed reassurance that she "wasn't bad." She asked because she needed to know; the truth, too, and not an uninformative sentence sugarcoated in order to keep Denatsu docile. Obviously, she was born differently. She lived in a hospital room and the only people who visited were her grandpa and her granduncle. That clearly wasn't normal.

(Denatsu had already asked if she was an orphan. She wasn't, though not for lack of trying on her part.)

The white walls were boring. The sterile sheets were boring. The food was boring. Denatsu's life was not very exciting.

And she was tired.

The tiredness was a side-effect apparently. Of what? Good question! Denatsu didn't know, only that it was necessary otherwise no one would be able to visit her ever again. As utterly dull as everything was, it was worse when no one visited. The silence was terrible. Though Denatsu wasn't quite sure how to speak to her caretakers, or even talk much at all, she liked the noisy way they bustled around her room: gathering her dirty linens, throwing open her curtains, sometimes even settling down to ask how she was feeling.

It made the room feel full.

The door rattled as it opened. Denatsu checked the clock on the wall. 5:15. It took her a long while of staring at the clock and then staring out the window where the sun sat high in the sky before she remembered that the clock was broken; had, in fact, never worked at all. Which was the only reason Denatsu could read it.

"Lady Dentasu, your grandfather is here to see you."

She sat up in her bed. "Okay!"

('Okay' was a wonderful word. You could use it in all types of scenarios, and it always worked out because it was an unambiguous reply and people generally preferred for Denatsu to mean it positively. 'Okay' was Denatsu's favourite word.)

Suddenly, a head. A head with long brown hair and brown eyes and a smile, always a smile. "Umeko, you're awake!"

Umeko. It wasn't her name (Denatsu knew that much) but something her grandpa called her. He said it was because her first word was 'plum,' and that said fruit was the only one she would eat without complaint. Denatsu didn't mind the nickname much.

"I stopped by earlier but you were sleeping. I didn't want to wake you so I left. I have a gift!" As her grandpa entered the room properly, the door locked behind him. It made a buzzing noise, like something activating. Grandpa reached behind his back and produced a clay pot. In it, a tiny, tiny tree.

"What is it?" Denatsu asked, accepting the gift. She made sure not to touch grandpa's brown hands. She could have visitors, her nurse's said, but she mustn't touch them. Whatever it was that let people in the room, it didn't let them touch her. "It's pretty."

"It's a bonsai tree. I grew it myself. You like it?"

Denatsu had already said it was pretty. She didn't see why she should answer that question when it was plenty obvious how she felt. She stroked the leaves of the bonsai. Grandpa often brought her gifts, little plants and bamboo stalks, but never something that he'd grown himself. Never something wooden.

She decided to keep it in her lap as opposed to putting it on the windowsill, where grandpa's gifts normally went. "Are you okay?" She asked, because that's what everyone always asked her when they talked and she thought that was how all conversations went.

Grandpa nodded. "I'm very happy. Are you okay, Umeko?"

The young girl shrugged. "Yeah." It was hard to be not okay when she never went anywhere. Which, she suspected, was the point. "Where's granduncle?"

"On a mission. I'll tell him that I visited you when he gets back. He'll be so jealous. Granduncle Tobirama loves visiting you."

"Really?" It never seemed so. Mostly, granduncle stood at the door with his arms crossed and his face set severely, barely speaking a word. Sometimes he brought a notepad with him to draw on, but more often than not he spent his time staring at Denatsu like he was staring through her. Her granduncle was not very good at speaking, and was even worse at relaxing. "Are you sure?"

Grandpa patted her knee. Well, he patted the blanket over her knee. His hands were still very warm. "I know it doesn't seem like it, but your granduncle is just worried. It's why he frowns all the time," Grandpa said, and then demonstrated the exact way that Denatsu's granduncle frowned: he even crossed his arms! Denatsu laughed and Grandpa grinned and things felt softer in her head. "It's because he's thinking of ways to make you better."

"Saitama-sensei told me that there's nothing wrong with me."

"There isn't," Grandpa hastened to say, "I didn't mean it like – there's nothing wrong with you. There's something inside you that's…"

Here, Denatsu helped him out. She knew this one. "Different?"

"Different. It's not wrong and it doesn't need to be made better. But it can hurt people, so we – me and your granduncle – are finding ways to keep others safe from it."

"Because of what it did to mother. What I did to mother," said Denatsu. She knew this one too.

Grandpa patted her knee again except this time he didn't move his hand away. He was smiling. He always was. This one was strange though. Wobbly. "You did nothing to your mother, Umeko," He said, and he was probably lying. Denatsu knew what she'd done to her mother. It was why her dad never visited. "That was… bad luck."

That was one way to put it. Bad luck. Denatsu was bad luck. Or bad luck followed her around. Either way, people needed to be protected from her.

She pet the leaves of the bonsai tree. It felt comfortable in her hands. "Okay," she murmured, nice and ambiguous.

Grandpa put his hand back in his lap. "Do you want me to tell you a story?" Denatsu nodded. She liked grandpa's stories. She didn't really get them, but his voice filled every empty inch of her room. Denatsu could fall asleep, comforted and warm, after one of grandpa's tales.

And so, after a deep breath, grandpa told her a story of two best friends who used to skip rocks across the water.

2.

Granduncle drew a picture on Denatsu's back, and suddenly she was outside.

It was all very… loud. All noise, colour, and stench. Denatsu discovered that people liked touching things, that sometimes people wanted to touch her. On the shoulder, on the top of her head, sometimes even to graze her hand as she walked past. Grandpa told her that people could touch her without really meaning to. That when you walk too close to someone, you can "accidentally bump into them." You're supposed to apologise when that happens.

Only, it happened a lot and Denatsu didn't apologise at all. She wasn't used to the buzz of activity around her and even if she hadn't spoken a word all day, her throat got tired when she was in the middle of a crowd. It was kind of hard to talk like that. Denatsu preferred not to.

There were a few quiet people. Granduncle Tobirama was one. Grandma Mito was another. Dad was the last.

Meeting her father was weird, too. Awkward. He hugged her even though she didn't want him to and cried and told her that he was very happy to see her. He told her that he was sorry that it took so long for her to get better, that he regretted not being with her the entire time.

Denatsu let him touch her and didn't apologise and said, "Hi, father," because grandpa told her that that was how you start a conversation and he'd never let her down before. "Are you okay?"

Father nodded. "Yes, Denatsu. I'm okay. I'm a lot better than I was before. What about you; are you okay?"

"Tired," she said, "It's loud. Everywhere. And hot."

"That's because you're wearing a long-sleeved shirt in the middle of summer, silly girl," Father said. "Come, there has to be something of Tsunade's that will fit you."

"Tsunade? That's my sister?"

"Your twin, yes. You've probably heard a lot about her, right? Dad – that is, your grandpa – loves her to pieces. I can't imagine that he didn't talk your ear off talking about how perfect she is every time he visited."

Grandpa had, just a little bit. Never for too long. He always ended up asking about what Denatsu liked to do. Whenever she told him that there wasn't much, he'd come back the next day with a new hobby for her to try out. 'Princess Tsunade' was just a kid who her grandpa liked. Denatsu wasn't sure about the whole 'sister' thing yet.

Denatsu's father gave her a t-shirt to wear. It was pink and worn, nothing at all like the starch hospital gowns. "There you are. Now you look like my daughter," Father was smiling. He looked like grandpa when he did that. His eyes were tearing up. Denatsu knew that meant he was about to cry, but couldn't figure out what was making him sad enough to. Should she mention it?

He grabbed her hand. Denatsu let him hold it, feeling a bit awkward and itchy and like her skin was pulled too tight over her bones. She didn't fit. She didn't fit at all. Why were father's hands so sweaty? Why were other people always so slimy?

Denatsu was introduced to her twin sister while holding their shared-father's sweaty hands. Tsunade squinted at her and said, "If we're twins, how come I've never heard of you before?"

"Denatsu's been sick," Father explained. "She wasn't allowed any visitors."

That wasn't true, thought Denatsu. Grandpa visited her. Granduncle visited her. The nurses and doctors and caretakers who cleaned her room and delivered her food or talked to her about their day – they visited her. Every single day.

Tsunade lifted her nose and said, "I don't believe you. You can't be my twin. You're way too pale!"

"You're too loud," Denatsu said. She wasn't sure she liked her sister. She liked her even less when she gasped, shrill and outraged. Denatsu's twin sister would never be so noisy. Not ever. "My ears hurt."

"Well, my eyes hurt! From looking at your ugly face!"

"Our faces are the same. That's what makes us twins."

"Your face is the uglier one," She said, and Father ruffled Tsunde's hair. Her hair looked bright and soft and fluffy. Denatsu's hair was coarse and messy and wasn't even cut evenly, which was why the nurse's braided it; so she could look neat even though she wasn't. "Papa, you can't be serious!"

"Tsunade…"

Denatsu yanked her hand free of her father's and took a big step away from them. Father watched her do it sadly. Denatsu didn't care. "Loud," She hissed, like it was the worst kind of insult she could deliver, and clamped her hands over her ears. "Too loud! Just be quiet! Shh! Shut up!"

"Papa! She's being mean!"

"La-la-la-la-la-la!"

If this was what Denatsu's family was like, then it was overrated.

3.

Grandpa died, which sucked, and then granduncle died afterwards, which was even worse.

After the humongous funeral, Father took her aside and sat her down to explain the ink on Denatsu's back. Namely, its purpose. "It's a seal to suppress your chakra. You were born with a lot of it, too much, and it… leaked everywhere. Which wouldn't have been a problem but – "

She knew this one. "My chakra is bad."

"It hurts people, yes," Father handed Denatsu a small journal. "This was your granduncle's. In it is everything he could figure about the nature of your chakra and how to control it. The seal on your back is somewhere in here. All it does is repress your chakra until all that remains is enough to keep you alive."

Denatsu took the journal and flipped it open to a random page. She understood nothing in it. She thumbed through it quickly: nothing made any sort of sense to her. Of course. Granduncle had coded it. Paranoid bastard. "Is it why I can't be a shinobi like Tsuna?"

"Yes. It's also why you're so tired all the time. And why you're so sickly. It's easier for bacteria to affect you when you don't have the chakra to keep them away. The reason I'm telling you this is because with your granduncle… gone, he can't maintain the seal. Your chakra corrodes – eats, it eats other chakra, you see, so it has to be painted on again every year."

Denatsu nodded. She remembered. Granduncle annually took her to an underground room dimly lit with candles. Grandpa was there, and so were grandpa's trees, and they put Denatsu to sleep. She woke up tired and sore in her bed the next day, her back burning. Grandpa always spoiled her to make up for it. That stopped when he died; granduncle was not all that fantastic at spoiling Denatsu.

"If granduncle can't put the seal back, then what do I do?" She still didn't like her family touching her, and Denatsu never did figure out the trick to getting along with her sister, but that didn't mean she wanted to kill them because her chakra was leaky.

Would she have to go back to the hospital room?

Father touched her shoulder. It barely lasted for a second: not long enough for Denatsu to become uncomfortable. "Your grand uncle designed the seal to deterior – um, break apart slowly. So he could tell when the seal needed to be put back on before people could get hurt. As the seal breaks, your chakra will come back to you. You're old enough now that you can learn to control it."

"Like walking on walls?"

"Maybe one day," Her father chuckled. "For starters, you'll have to learn to keep your chakra quiet and contained so only you can feel it. That way it can't hurt other people. Once you learn that, your chakra control will be so refined that you might even put your sister to shame."

It was learning to run before you knew how to crawl.

Honestly, Denatsu didn't know if she could do it. But there wasn't an option. Either she learned, or she went back to the hospital and one thing was for certain: she wasn't going back to that damned room.

4.

Nawaki was loud, red, and needed to be touched all the time. His mom, Denatsu's step-mother, said that babies could die of loneliness, and that if they didn't have their mother around they'd grow up different. "Sick," was the word she used. "Sick in the head."

Denatsu had some idea of what she was implying. She wished her step-mother had said it maliciously instead of accidentally so Denatsu would have an excuse to be angry. Not that she needed one – Denatsu was angry anyways – but she'd like any sort of reason to get Tsunade off her back.

Her chakra control was refined enough now that Denatsu could touch whomever she wanted with little regard for a time limit. If she wanted, Denatsu could carry Nawaki in her arms all day and not lose a wink of sleep over his well-being. As it was, Denatsu didn't want. She didn't want a step-mother, she didn't want a half-brother, and she didn't want her blood family breathing down her neck about how she needed to 'give them a chance.'

(Leaving things to chance never went well for Denatsu.)

Tsunade loved him though; and with abandon. Nawaki was as equally taken with her, so it wasn't like he needed Denatsu. He had more than enough. More than she'd ever had, that was for sure.

Nawaki's mom died when he was two. The little brat screamed for weeks (sick in the head, indeed) and the only one who could calm him was Tsunade, who happily volunteered herself for the duty despite being a literal nine year old with no time or obligation to practically-raise her little brother. But she did it, without even hesitating.

Father had barely dared to forgive himself for the death of his first-wife, and it wasn't until Nawaki's mother came into his life that he entertained the idea of moving on. It had been a drawn-out period in Denatsu's life: her dad's doubts, her step-mother's dogged determination to be apart of his life, her dad's doubts, her step-mother twisting his arm, more doubts, and then suddenly she was moving in and there was a wedding. It had taken a great amount of courage for her father to remarry. It was a leap of faith, and for a while it had been worth it – except the canyon was perhaps larger than her father realised, and without forewarning he found himself plummeting somewhere no one could follow.

So no, her father couldn't do it. Not that he didn't try, but really, he wasn't fit for it. One too many losses had turned him into someone Denatsu didn't recognise. Underneath, he may have been the same Senju Takumi who had humbled himself before his three-year-old daughter and cried over her, but following the death of his second wife, he found vices. Unhealthy vices.

Nawaki, as loud and pink and emotional as he was, needed better than that.

(And since it certainly wasn't Denatsu…)

But even Denatsu had her responsibilities to her brother. Unfortunately.

Sometimes, they were completely unavoidable.

Jinmu had a rather disturbed look on his face when she arrived for team training. "You do know," He began nervously, "that it's illegal to kidnap children, right?"

Jinmu was always a bit nervous about something, anything, and everything. The anxiety reached new heights when he met Denatsu in any scenario, but he was breaking that astounding record at the sight of her in possession of a small child. She had no doubt that he wanted to snatch her brother and call the authorities on her. She might have worried but trusted in his cowardly ways; Jinmu would never rock the boat like that.

At least, not if she was a passenger.

Nawaki was asleep on her back. Tsunade was going on a mission with her own team (made up of every single child Denatsu despised) and needed someone "less likely to drink themselves into a coma" to look after her beloved little brother. Given the rather specific requirements, their father was out. Denatsu had been as well, actually, just because of who she was as a person – but the arrangements with Tsunade's preferred babysitter fell through, so Denatsu was forced to acknowledge that she had a younger brother, and, on top of that, a responsibility to ensure he reached his seventh birthday.

Hence, the sleeping six-year-old on her back.

"I know."

Michizane adjusted his glasses and shuffled forward. "Is that your sister's brother?"

"He's my brother as well," Denatsu said, though without much enthusiasm.

"Yes, technically, but I've never seen you two together," Michizane's fingers twitched. He was obviously itching to pull out a scroll and record his findings.

Michizane was an orphan and was really quite ordinary, with pale skin and hair as black as his eyes (which was to say: very.) There was nothing in him that stood out as particularly fascinating, except maybe that he was in the same team as Denatsu, the infamously undesirable twin sister to Lady Tsunade. He had a thirst not only for the collection of knowledge but the recording of it, and was always prepared to scribe current events. He always had a brush, a full inkwell, and an empty scroll in his pack. He was probably better as a historian than a shinobi.

Michizane asked, "Did your sister die?" and there was not a hint of sadness in his tone. Just vague resignation.

Jinmu's face paled. "Tsunade-hime is dead?"

"No!" She tried to say, only to be interrupted by her fool of a teammate. Jinmu clapped his hands together and bowed his head. He began muttering a prayer under his breath, growing more desperate by the second. Michizane patted his teammate's shoulder sympathetically, then sent a look at Nawaki's sleeping form that communicated the same sentiment.

God, where was Kayanu-sensei? Wasn't she supposed to be here by now? She knew how Denatsu felt about her tardiness. It was entirely unbecoming of a jōnin sensei. It went against the rules!

Nawaki shifted on her back. Not particularly excited for him to awaken and begin screaming in her ear, Denatsu sharpened her gaze into a glare and pointed it squarely at Jinmu's ducked head. He felt her eyes burning through his skull and, without lifting his head, scuttered until he was safely behind Michizane, who was less afraid of Denatsu by virtue of him not having anything closely resembling a personality.

"Jinmu, if you wake Nawaki, I will destroy yo – "

"Have we or have we not discussed the appropriate way to address your comrades, Senju?" Denatsu sealed her lips, annoyed that she didn't hear her sensei arrive. As always.

Kayanu-sensei approached from the left side of the training ground – which was entirely water, so it was anyone's guess how she'd managed to appear from thin air – with a blade of grass hanging from her mouth. She eyed the new addition to her team curiously. "And who is this?"

"Denatsu's sister's younger half-brother," Kayanu-sensei's eyebrow went up. Michizane tried again. "The littlest Senju?"

"Better," Kayanu-sensei allowed. Michizane sent her a half-hearted thumbs up. Denatsu wondered if she should be offended that he was doing all he could to disassociate Nawaki with her, like it would be poison for his development or something, and decided she didn't care. Honestly, it was probably for the best. "You couldn't leave him at home, Senju?"

Denatsu shook her head. "I'm his only available babysitter."

Kayanu blinked. Jinmu whispered, "I know. Terrifying, right?"

"Gods help that child," Kayanu-sensei muttered, rubbing her forehead. She sighed. "We'll work around it. I hope you tamed him; I won't tolerate much of his fussing if he happens to awaken while we're training."

Denatsu agreed, and promised that Nawaki wouldn't be too much of a distraction. Jinmu innocently scratched his head, "But children like to do that. Fuss, I mean. Especially when they're bored. Surely we can't punish him for that, right?"

Kayanu-sensei made a sarcastically pleased face. "Yes, thank you for that, Hasegawa. Now shut up."

"Yes, sensei!" Jinmu squawked, face bright red.

"There's no helping it," Kayanu-sensei shot Nawaki a look that clearly communicated that he was inconveniencing her and she wasn't happy about it. Denatsu shifted so Nawaki was safely hidden from her eyes: a largely subconscious act, and one that made Kayanu-sensei tilt her head and regard Denatsu curiously. But she didn't say anything about it, because that's just how adults were. "Let's just begin already. Michizane."

Michizane straightened. "Sensei?"

"How's your ink thing going?" Kayanu-sensei emphasised this by waving her hand inarticulately. It was a pretty accurate description of what the 'ink thing' was, honestly. Michizane's 'ink thing' was a bit weird. It had potential to be something great but still. Weird.

"Very well. I can bring small drawings to life now instead of just making them move on the scroll!"

"Great. Show me. Senju, set the little Senju down somewhere. I want you to counter Michizane's scroll beasts."

Denatsu could think of nothing better.

5.

There's a clatter of dishes from the kitchen. Denatsu poked her head in, already halfway through asking Tsunade how long she was back for (in the interest of accepting her own mission, of course) when she realised her sister didn't have long, spiked white hair, and neither did she have straight black hair to her hips.

"Oh," She said, voice flat and unimpressed. "It's you two."

Jiraiya leaped. Orochimaru didn't. Between the two of them, the snake was the only one capable of sensing her; not because it was particularly difficult, since Denatsu's chakra was never content to be still and quiet, but rather because Jiraiya had no talent for sensing. Or listening to the sound of footsteps down a hallway, apparently.

Immediately, Jiraiya's face contorted into one of unpleasant surprise. He dropped the plate he was holding in the sink and pointed. "You! What are you doing here?!" Orochimaru gave her a long glance from under his hair. He said nothing. It didn't suggest any sort of friendliness between them, though it was an easy mistake to make.

Denatsu sneered, putting her own dishes in the sink of sudsy water. Jiraiya spluttered, unwilling to wash her dishes, but she wasn't giving him an option. "I live here, ape. What are you doing?"

"We're waiting for Tsunade-hime! Now go away already!"

Irritating. Unpleasant. Unwelcome.

He was a monkey, plain and simple. Denatsu could not comprehend what the Sandaime, student of her granduncle, saw in him worth cultivating. Jiraiya was an orphan boy with no clan connections and no natural charisma. He was loud, smelly, and couldn't stand to look Denatsu in the eye during the days when he didn't think she was Satan reincarnated. Denatsu saw nothing in him worth respecting, and thusly did not.

"Keep your voice down,"

"Why should I listen to you?"

"Nawaki is sleeping, primate. I won't have your wretched voice waking him up."

Jiraiya looked offended at the prospect that she could care. Orochimaru, still with a vague look of patronizing indulgence of her presence in her own house, asked, "He was recently promoted to chūnin, was he not? Was he assigned a field mission?"

Nineteen. They were all nineteen and jōnin during war time. Nawaki, eleven. Denatsu ran solo missions; when she did have a team, it always had her boyfriend, Michizane, as apart of the force. The Sandaime might not play favourites but he certainly knew that her former genin-teammate was the only tempering force in the whole of Konoha, and he exploited it. Regardless, Denatsu wasn't in charge of any squads and wouldn't be for a long time.

Orochimaru definitely was, though. Denatsu wasn't stupid enough not to acknowledge it. As creepy as he was, there was little doubt that he wouldn't lead Nawaki on a mission; and Orochimaru was powerful – employed similar tactics to her own, in fact – and that, at least, was something Denatsu could trust.

She narrowed her eyes. "B-rank. Went for thirteen days. He's exhausted,"

"He fulfilled his mission admirably, I presume?"

"Of course he did," Denatsu scoffed. "He'll be assigned another like it... as soon as he's rested." She scowled at Jiraiya, who made a face at her. Orochimaru sent the both of them a disdainful look, nodding in acknowledgement of Denatsu's information. He dried the dishes with a look of deep concentration. "Just finish whatever you're doing in here quietly, then get out."

Jiraiya huffed. "Why don't you get out first – "

"Jiraiya," Orochimaru mumbled, "Must you?"

"She starts it!"

Denatsu sneered, "buffoon," and stormed out of the kitchen, ignoring Jiraiya's spluttered insults back at her. She didn't like Tsunade's teammates and didn't pretend to. Her only consolation was that the feeling was mutual. On her way back to her room, she ran into Tsunade, who was drying her hair with a fluffy green towel. Denatsu glared. "Get them out of here before he breaks something, Tsuna,"

Tsunade flicked her forehead irritably. "Put on your glasses, Natsu, gods. Your eyesight will only get worse if you don't."

"That's none of your business!"

"I'm your doctor," Tsunade grumbled, "and you're supposed to be resting, you idiot. Your knee – "

Denatsu interrupted. "I will rest as soon as you remove your pet ape and the lizard from my house. They're too loud."

Her twin sister rolled her eyes. "Jeez, if you're going to be that prickly at least invite your damn boyfriend over so he can deal with it," at that, Denatsu flushed an angry, embarrassed red. Tsunade raised her eyebrow. "Oh, I didn't mean it like that, you pervert. Really, and you think Jiraiya's bad."

"Leave," said the younger twin, none-too-graciously, "and don't come back for at least two days!"

Tsunade made an annoyed noise from deep in her throat and walked past her sister. She didn't negotiate the terms, aware that, even if Denatsu would hardly admit it, in two more days Nawaki would be set to receive his summons to the Hokage. That he had at least two days to rest and recover from his first high-intensity mission in the front lines. She didn't show it, but Tsunade's sister cared for their little brother; just in small, methodical ways that she (for some inane reason) insisted on shrouding in secrecy; as if her siblings weren't fully aware of what she was doing.

Tsunade would never understand her sister.

6.

"You did this."

Michizane wrapped an arm around her waist and locked her against his chest. An effective way to keep her from leaping at Orochimaru, who stood clad in black at the funeral he all but manufactured. He, like Michizane, had pale skin paired with impossibly black hair, but where Michizane's eyes were deep and dark, Orochimaru's were sharpened gold; predatory. Any elegance, any attractiveness that could be accredited to him merely by association to Michizane, meant nothing in the face of that.

To her, Orochimaru was the most hideous, disgraceful, slimy piece of trash she had ever laid eyes on.

But he certainly had courage, she'd give him that. "How can you stand here and pretend that you had nothing to do with – "

"Denatsu, stop," Michizane was whispering, "This isn't the place for this. You know it. This isn't the place. Not right now."

Denatsu usually listened. At her father's funeral and her step-mother's funeral, she had been sad, sure, but nothing so heart-wrenching as grief had been described to her. Denatsu had listened to the meaningless consolation Michizane had whispered to her then. She hadn't known. How could she have known? With them, it was different – they didn't matter to her in any way that she'd chosen.

Nawaki wasn't like that. She'd chosen him. She decided to love him, and it was not a choice she made lightly.

Losing him was beyond any kind of sorrow she could have imagined. It was incomprehensible and vast and there was a piece of her that had been split straight down the middle, ripped open and torn into, and she imagined that this was what it felt like to be emotionally gutted; there was no other way to explain the torturous spilling, the raw overflowing of every carefully contained feeling for her brother that she'd ever experienced. Protectiveness, fear, sadness, worry, pride, love – so much love, she didn't realised she could love someone so much before now.

There was anger, too. Not at Nawaki. Not ever at Nawaki.

Right now, Denatsu would have given anything to wrap her hands around Orochimaru's throat. "He was your responsibility! You were his team leader, you were supposed to look after him! We trusted you to look after him – "

Orochimaru turned away from her. One of his teammate's meaty, gorilla paws rested on his shoulder and for one laughable moment, it was if he was trying to turn Orochimaru away from her; as if Jiraiya believed his hand was a sufficient enough shield against her.

Denatsu's chakra twisted and coiled and then Tsunade spoke a single, soulless, "Natsu," and all the fight left her at once. "It isn't his fault and you know it."

"Tsuna – "

"Please," Tsunade croaked, and her hand reached out and clutched at Denatsu's with enough desperation to break bones. "Can you just – for once, can you just – can you just be there? Can you – "

Jiraiya moved Orochimaru away and Michizane released her and for the first time that Denatsu could currently recall, Tsunade bowled into her arms in a vicious intimation of a hug. There were more tears involved than Denatsu thought hugs normally required.

Her sister sobbed right against her collarbone, and Denatsu found that without the satisfying burn of anger curling through her veins, there was… nothing. Just a dead brother and a war outside their doorstep.

The outside world was nothing like her grandpa promised.

7.

Denatsu stripped off her shirt to reveal her dishonorably-attained samurai armor. The mole rat who ran the inn stared at her chest plate – not to ogle at her, as Denatsu bound her breasts pretty damn effectively – but to pass judgement on what she wore.

She recalled the way he limped to the register. The quick way he had assessed her condition and determined a need for first aid. The swift and economic way he attended to her, making sure he didn't move too fast. He kept in her line-of-sight, and always asked before touching her. If he wasn't a former shinobi himself, he was in close contact with one; a friend, family member, romantic partner. Either way, he was efficient at dealing with her.

It also meant that he knew samurai armor was not the norm for someone in her occupation. Denatsu eyed him coldly, waiting him out. He would stop biting his tongue eventually. No one ever understood the value of silence these days.

And true to form...

"Why not wear a mesh shirt?" He found the courage to ask.

Denatsu sent him a poisonous look but answered. He had been of great assistance to her; these days, she was not rude without reason. "It's mesh. Doesn't exactly stand up against a chakra-enhanced blade."

"And metal will?"

Denatsu thought fondly of the seal she carved in the day she stole her armor from the corpse of a worthy opponent. She said with confidence born of experience, "My metal will."

And that was that.

8.

[ **REDACTED** ]

9.

"Michizane, you... I can't just _allow this_ –"

[ **REDACTED** ]

10.

[ **REDACTED** ]

11.

The cell was rancid in every meaning of the word. Denatsu did not think there was a single cloth or steel in the world that could defend against the chilly draft that swept regularly through the underground prison. The silence had weight in a place like this; like water, a wave like a mountain bearing down upon on you. Or maybe like syrup, thick and slow.

Time, Denatsu learned, did not touch her here. Age wore at her bones and pulled at her skin and scrubbed at her memories but time – time was not a welcome visitor.

"Treason, Natsu?"

And neither were meddlesome older sisters who had no idea what they were talking about.

Denatsu closed her eyes to the blurry sight of Tsunade, turned her head and her heart away from that betrayed face, and adjusted her wrists. The cuffs pinched. She only had to wear them in the event of a visitor. There was another reason to want her gone.

"I thought… I thought you loved him… how could you…"

Denatsu sighed. "If all you came here to do was blubber, then you can leave. I've heard enough already."

She could practically hear her teeth grinding together, see her fists clench. "Dad always said you were different, but to betray everyone like this… to feel no remorse… what kind of monster do you have to be?"

There was nothing to regret. Denatsu admitted, "Put him in front of me, and I'd do it again."

12.

[ **REDACTED** ]

13.

[ **REDACTED** ]

14.

[ **REDACTED** ]

15.

Valuable ANBU wasted on criminals like her. Oh, the gall of it.

"The village is being destroyed as we speak," Denatsu hissed, more furious than she had been in a long time; longer than she cared to remember, "and you stand here, concerned about my cage? FIGHT. _Protect the people_!"

One told her, "We are here under orders. We cannot leave you unattended in such a state of chaos and risk your escape. You are far too volatile – "

"You are a disgrace," She spat, and angrily paced her cell, half wishing the dungeon really would collapse in on itself. Anything was better. Surely, anything was better.

(Her grandpa's village – her granduncle's village – her family's _pride and joy_ – )

16.

[ **REDACTED** ]

17.

[ **REDACTED** ]

18.

[ **REDACTED** ]

19.

"A coup?" She laughed. How could she not? This man knew full well the circumstances behind her sentencing; and yet, here he stood. "I would not assist you if my life were on the line, Shimura, and I don't care for my freedom. Handle it as you will and keep me out of it."

20.

[ **REDACTED** ]

21.

"Even after being sentenced to rot for treason for the rest of your miserable life, you still keep worming into everyone's peaceful lives," someone said, and it was not a voice Denatsu had ever heard before. She rolled her chafing wrists. She'd known she would get a visitor; she hadn't known that it would be a stranger.

And then she opened her eyes.

Denatsu had not been intimidated with Jiraiya when he was prepubescent and too shy to look a girl in the eye, and wasn't about to start just because he'd grown out his hair. She flatly replied, "Worming is one of my strengths."

"You should have made like a worm and stayed in the dirt then."

Once, that would have angered Denatsu but decades in a cell dulled a person, and besides, however brutish he was, there was nothing Jiraiya could do to harm her. Not even Jiraiya the Toad Sage could harm her without suffering consequences. Namely, that he would need to enter the cell to challenge her. The decades may have blunted her temper, but she still had tricks up her sleeve. Bad luck was her shadow, after all. It was always with her.

"I'll return to the dirt when you return to the sewers, rat."

Jiraiya looked as if it pained him to be here.

The ten-year-old girl inside of Denatsu who had taken one look at him and spat at his feet quivered with joy to see it. Always so easy. So simple. Denatsu hated Jiraiya, there was no doubt about that, but he was so fun to play with; it was perhaps the only thing she could rely on with him.

"Cow." He muttered.

Pathetic.

Legendary, huh? This was legendary? Standards of the world had dropped while she was locked away. 'People have forgotten what power looks like. How power walks.'

Denatsu saw nothing in Jiraiya that deserved respect. She never had. Michizane may have taught her in the most painful way possible that ordinary people could break past the limits and disadvantages of their birth, perhaps even thrive in such a hostile environment, but it didn't change her feelings about Jiraiya. About his dirty roots and his slimy personality. His loudness. Always so loud.

She said, "What do you require of me, fool?" and meant: _You can't touch me. You couldn't ever._

"Tsunade-hime," He said coldly, "I know you have a connection with her. Tell me where she is."

22.

" – and what is your opinion on community service?"

"If the service is to babysit a spoiled clan kid, then I'd rather rot in my cell."

"No," said Tsunade, eyes wary and voice tired. She looked like she wasn't sleeping well. Denatsu swallowed and tried not to think too much. It had been a long time since she saw her sister. In a way, it was a relief. Denatsu hadn't been in possession of a mirror in a while: at least now, she had a frame of reference for what she looked like in her fifties. "No, she's not anything like that at all."

"You can't expect me to believe that you actually trust me with your student, Tsuna."

"I don't," she replied tonelessly, "It's not you I'm trusting. It's Sakura."

Denatsu raised her eyebrows.

Tsunade put her hand on her hip and said with more confidence than she had to be feeling: "If there's anyone who could redeem your sorry ass, it's that kid."

Well.

At the very least, it would be entertainment for a little while.


	6. Sakura Gets What She Deserves

Anime/Manga » Naruto » **Persephone's Harvest**  
Notes: Last chapter. Super quick. Literally episode one Sakura and episode three-thousand Sakura. I've lost steam for the story so I'm just posting what I have in hopes of it being somewhat comprehensive. For curious ones: Denatsu's ex-boyfriend was a part of ROOT, she killed him for spying on the village, Danzo did what he needed to do to keep her quiet. Sakura's summoning animal Suzumebachi, the wasp queen.  
Chapter: 6/6  
Summary: As Hokage, Tsunade is too busy to train Sakura the way she needs. As it happens, she has a twin sister with sufficient enough skill to mentor Sakura in her place. An _evil_ twin sister, that is. [OC. Crack taken seriously. Sakura-centric.]

* * *

 **o.o.o.**

* * *

 **The first moment…**

Sakura knew Naruto was loud. The sky was blue, the sun was red, and Naruto's voice was capable of reaching a frequency that could shatter eardrums. It was apart of his character. It just also happened to be completely fucking annoying; really, to unprecedented levels. By the end of their genin team years, Sakura could handle Naruto's default volume with little protesting, but after spending two and a half years apart, she was thrown right back to square one. She could not stand when he raised his voice—which was always.

She handled him shouting her name. She handled their noisy reunion, mostly because she'd missed him too much that it hadn't occurred to her to mind. Then Naruto began recounting the years of training, complete with gestures and tones of varying decibels to convey drama, and he screamed, "THAT'S WHEN THE PERVY SAGE SAID," right into Sakura's ears.

Her arm moved on its own.

"— _urgh!_ " was the guttural sound out of her teammate's mouth. He clattered to the ground with his arms wrapped around his waist, trying to breathe. There were possibly tears in his eyes. He sounded utterly pathetic, whimpering, "Sakura-chan, _whhhyyy_ ,"

Honestly, for a second, not even Sakura could figure out why she'd delivered a solid punch to his solar plexus. "U-Uh, I'm so sorry, Naruto—"

"That was so mean!" He wailed.

Sakura still felt guilty. But she'd never dealt well with wailers. "Then you should learn to keep an inside voice, Naruto!"

"Aren't we outside?!"

"That's—I was right beside you, you didn't need to yell, alright?"

Looking utterly bewildered as he crawled back to his feet, he said, "So you _punched me_?" Yes. Yes, she had. And it hadn't even shut him up. Even winded, Naruto made a production of it. Her face felt uncomfortably hot; she patted his shoulder in apology, clearing her throat. "Yeesh… usually you go for the face; I'm used to bruised cheeks, Sakura. Not— why my stomach?"

"Winded opponents take longer to recover," she mumbled, scratching her cheek. "I'm, uh, really sorry for that. I don't know where that came from."

Still holding his stomach, Naruto sent her a sidelong glance full of suspicion and betrayal. "That makes two of us..."

Sakura wasn't sure how to remedy the situation. Fortuitously, that was when Tenten and Neji turned a corner and ended up on the main street. Naruto's attention cut to them without a second to spare, and instantly, his face was possessed by a maddened look of glee. It was focused solely on Neji. It was anyone's guess if he actually remembered who Tenten was. "Neji! You're here too!"

Tenten cleared her throat.

Sheepishly, Naruto added: "And Tenten too! What are you two doing?"

"I'm meeting my team..."

"Which I'm a member of, in case you forgot _that_ as well!" said Tenten.

"...at the gates so we can train. I'm finally free, so Gai-sensei is eager to have me there," Neji answered. His entire body seemed to soften. "I didn't realise you were back, Naruto."

"Ah, it was kind of a surprise for everyone. I'm reporting to the old lady now. Why don't you get enough time?"

Sakura told him. "Neji's a jonin. He runs his own missions now so he's always busy."

"HUH?! You're a jonin already?! But last time I checked, you were still a genin!"

"Are you familiar with the concept of promotions?"

Naruto scowled. Neji was still smiling. "You're only fifteen!"

"He's a prodigy," Tenten snorted. She was still sour about the case of forgotten-identity and it showed in her tone. "Really, Naruto. Use that thick head of yours."

Flustered and off-guard, Naruto could only ask, "Who else is a jonin?!" He whirled around on Sakura. "Are _you_ a jonin as well?"

"Shishou wouldn't let me," She huffed. "Kankuro and Neji are the only jonin in our year group. Everyone else is a chunin. Well, almost everyone—you've been gone for the last two years, so you're a genin." Naruto squawked, and she kept her fist at her side with more self-restraint than you'd think she'd need. "Ha! Guess you're still dead last, Naruto."

Naruto put his face in his hands and proceeded to make a lot of noise. Sakura's eye twitched. "It's not a big deal," said Neji, lying.

"It's a huge deal."

"Tenten."

"What? I'm just telling it how it is. There's little independence or respect for genin in the forces, Naruto. Technically, the highest ranking mission that you're legally allowed to participate in are C-ranks." Tenten grinned and put her hand on her hip. "And I'd start shutting up now if I were you. Don't you know that loud noises trigger Sakura's murder instincts?"

Naruto put some distance between them, the stomach incident still fresh in his mind. Sakura clicked her tongue. "Oh, shut up, Tenten. Why don't you and Neji leave already? You don't want to be late to meeting your team."

"So uptight," The other girl teased. She wrapped her arm in Neji's and began to pull him along, not that there was any resistance. "Whatever~ Catch you two later! We have to meet up again, okay? You need to tell us what you've been doing all this time, Naruto. Don't think we'll forget!"

Neji nodded very respectfully as he passed. "You must promise, Naruto."

Baffled and flattered all at once, Naruto nodded so fast his head nearly fell off. "Yeah… yeah, of course! No way I'd miss it! Good luck with your training, Neji, Tenten! Say hi to Bushy Brows and Bushy Brows Sensei for me!" The duo waved as they left. Naruto watched them go with wide eyes. "Woah… I didn't realised I'd missed them until now. Who knew Tenten even talked!"

He'd never been the sharpest kunai, she supposed. And he never did have an interest in other kunoichi. Their acknowledgement meant jack to him. "Tenten talks. Tremendously and at length."

"Are you two friends? I didn't know you two were close before."

"We weren't. But then, you know, Sasuke-kun left and you followed and there wasn't really… I made some new friends, Naruto. Of course I did. I didn't just mope in my room waiting for you to come back, you know," She snorted to let him know that everything was okay, gently tapping his shoulder. He looked a bit guilty, so she smiled. "I'm fine, Naruto. Better than. Sasuke-kun betraying us hurt but I didn't let it keep me down, not for long anyways. I'm stronger than I've ever been!"

"Sakura…"

"So you can stop worrying about me, okay? I can handle myself now."

Naruto looked serious. He stared at her for a long moment, eyes roaming her face, looking for any fracture in her facade, any lie, anything that would allude to her not being entirely truthful with him. After a moment where Sakura felt like a bug under a microscope, his shoulders relaxed, and he threw his arm around her in an act more casual than their relationship had ever justified. And still, Sakura relaxed into his side. Naruto was very warm, and smelled so very familiar.

He laughed and said, "Gee, Sakura, I'm not an idiot, 'ttebayo. You've never needed me to worry about you, so why would I start now?"

Sakura covered her mouth and chuckled. What a liar. "Nothing wrong with making sure, Naruto."

Gosh, she really had missed him.

* * *

 **o.o.o.**

* * *

 **...to the last**

Her moment of glory was over too quickly. She'd revealed her ability, the place where most of her work had gone into for the past couple of years; the ability to use her chakra to destroy enemy coils. It was her pride and joy. And Madara just...

Madara threw her back one last time, a calculating look on his face.

When she first revealed her technique, he'd been childishly gleeful; it was something new to play with, she supposed—the fact that she could grab him and screw up his arm amused him thoroughly. It wasn't in the nature of geniuses to be satisfied for long, however, and now he was staring at her bruised body in disdain.

He harrumphed. "You need to be touching something with all five fingers, right? Otherwise your clever jutsu doesn't work." Sakura gritted her teeth. He didn't have the empathy to phrase it as a question—he was right, simply because he had never been wrong before. "So all I have to do is make sure you don't get a hold of me and I should be alright."

How did he know? How did he figure it out so fast?

"Sakura, you need to stand back."

It was the last thing she wanted to hear. Kakashi grabbed her shoulder. She could hear the sympathy in his voice. "You've done enough. It's time to let us handle things from here."

No… no… no…

"We won't let you down, Sakura-chan. Sasuke, Kakashi-sensei and I will make sure to take down this bastard for you."

She wasn't done yet. She had told him, hadn't she? That she could handle herself? Naruto wasn't just indulging her, was he?

 _Was he?_

"Just stay out of our way."

Madara. She looked at him, took in that white face and those black eyes and that _aura,_ that dreadful aura, and clenched all five of her fingers into a fist. Her knuckles turned to ivory.

Stand _back?_ Let the boys handle it? No way.

Not in this lifetime.

"Don't… don't you dare…" Sakura knocked herself out of her head and glared. "...underestimate me!"

She reached deep inside of herself and unleashed something which she had been gathering for years, uncorked the bottle, and felt agony as the storage seal on her heart exploded open.

From her collarbones, branch-like seals stretched out across her shoulders, going down her arms and ending in the palms of her hands. There were flowers on the branches, like cherry or plum blossoms; but more important was the chakra.

Corrosive. Poisonous. Coiled and hungry like a starved serpent. It roared out of her, calling for blood, and though it literally burned Sakura's insides, she beat the chakra down. Tamed it. Told it, ' _you are_ _mine_ _now, do you understand that?'_

It retreated back into her body, the seals along her shoulders and arms rippling like they were alive. The surprise of her comrades was palpable.

"Sakura?!"

"Oh… so you do have something new for me," Madara sounded pleased that she could further entertain him. Sage, was she going to enjoy this... "Unexpected. Fine, I'll play with you. I might even give you a good death if you're able to grab a hold of me."

Sakura's hands trembled. It took all her restraint not to allow the chakra to tear apart her coils. "I won't _need_ to grab you, Madara."

"And what makes you think I'll let yo— _what?!_ "

She hadn't entertained his witty reply. Sakura moved, faster than she ever had before, and reached out. Her fingertips glanced across his face, but before she could grab a hold, he kicked her across the clearing. The startlement was gone. He seemed irritated by her, like she was a fly he couldn't swat. "So the chakra makes you faster…"

"That's not all it does," Sakura murmured. Madara hissed, hand flying to his cheek. She watched in satisfaction as the skin peeled back, melting away like acid was shaving away at his face. "All I have to do is touch you!"

Next was his foot, the one he had used to kick her. It eroded just as his face had one, contaminating nearby areas. It was removed from the ankle down. Madara's surprise made way for consideration. "Hashirama's granddaughter… could it be that you're a descendent?"

Ha. Unlikely.

"I've never seen anything like this," said Sasuke, and he stared at Sakura like she was someone he was meeting for the first time.

But Kakashi was not nearly as lost. "It isn't a jutsu. Ordinarily, there are only five chakra nature types: water, earth, wind, fire, lightning. Senju Denatsu is the first ever case of someone being born with corrosive chakra."

"Like Corrosion Style?"

"Corrosion Style is the combination of fire, water and earth. Corrosive chakra isn't any of the five. It's just—acidic." Kakashi eyed the seals. "How can you harness a _chakra nature_ , Sakura?"

"Carefully." was Sakura's reply. She didn't do it alone. Tenten to help with the sealing, Hinata with the adjustment of foreign chakra to her system, Ino with the occasional poisoned bloodstream… and Shishou to incorporate it into her fighting style. Sakura knew the value of teamwork. "And not for very long. So if you three want to wait for me to deal with him until you can deliver the final blow, it would be much appreciated."

Sometimes, Sakura thought Orochimaru would have made a better mentor for her than he was for Sasuke. Sakura struck like lightning, too quick to follow with your eyes. Madara dodged, but Sakura's style wasn't about one-punches. Her shishou's style wasn't about that. She struck again, again, again, because it wasn't about the force of a punch, but the quantity of them.

Denatsu's style was so much more effective with _her_ chakra. Sakura was exhilarated.

Shrieking birds. Madara leaped backwards to dodge Sasuke's fist. From behind came Naruto, and the boys moved Madara away from her as the engaged in something that barely counted as taijutsu, with all the ninjutsu they were using as augmentation.

Sakura watched. Waiting. Sasuke cracked into a can of Perfect Susano'o and Naruto into his Kurama cloak. Madara had no choice but to meet them overpowered jutsu for overpowered jutsu. It was when the boys knocked Madara over that Sakura made her move. She propelled herself forward— _let your rapidity be that of wind: swift, invisible, leaving no tracks_ —and came onto the scene as Madara began to laugh.

Her hands fit snugly around his throat. He wasn't laughing anymore.

" _You_ —"

The chakra, _all_ of it, roared forward and sunk its teeth into Madara's neck, into his coils. He screamed from the pain of it, whereas Sakura felt herself relax as the chakra switched vessels. Madara was powerful, but not even Hashirama himself could touch his granddaughter without the use of seals.

Madara did not have any seals.

As soon as the transfer was complete, Sakura stumbled backwards; Kakashi was behind her, caught her and carried her to where a wary Naruto and Sasuke waited.

"What did you do?" asked Naruto. He sounded horrified. "He's— _screaming_ , Sakura-chan."

"I gave him my—my shishou's chakra," Sakura intoned. Her body was trembling from relief and pain. Her coils felt raw and bleeding, though such a thing was not possible. At least, not normally. "My seals… they are tied into shishou's. Because hers aren't—weren't chakra repression: they're storage seals. But instead of storing the chakra in the fucking void or something, it goes to me. It goes to _my_ seal."

Sakura allowed herself a vicious smile.

"I've been accumulating shishou's chakra for three years."

"And you think your trick will put Madara down?" Asked Sasuke, voice dry.

Kakashi shook his head in response to Sasuke's offending doubt. "The Shodaime himself couldn't touch Denatsu when she was a child. Her chakra would have destroyed his hands. I can't imagine the damage the chakra would do to a chakra system unprepared to handle it."

Naruto made a noise of amazement. Sakura collapsed to her knees, blood pounding in her ears. Her teammate went to grab her, but she waved him away. "You can handle him. All of us, we do it together or not at all."

Naruto's grin complemented Sasuke's scoff. "Moron, we could have done it without you," The Uchiha complained. It was still the closest thing to a 'good job' she'd ever heard from him. It was almost enough to make her smile.

"If you're going to whine, do it after you land the killing blow."

The reincarnated sons charged at Madara, who was quickly regenerating his entire fucking head. Kakashi dropped to one knee, his hand a steady anchor on the back of her neck. While the boys finished the psychopathic man off with some mystical hand nonsense, Kakashi told her, very quietly: "I know I was a terrible teacher to you, but just so you know... I really am proud of you, Sakura. No less than I am of the boys."

It was silly how much it meant to her to hear him finally say it. She grabbed his hand and held it tightly while whatever poisonous chakra remained flushed itself out of her system; it must have burned him to hold her, but he squeezed her fingers tightly. "Th-Thank you, Kakashi-sensei…"

"I'm sure," he continued, "that your shishou would agree with me, if she were here."

Sakura's heart hiccupped. It was an open wound, a truth that she had been too busy to acknowledge in the midst of this war. But her shishou had died in defense of the village, her grandfather's village, and saved a great many lives doing so. In her last moments, Denatsu redefined her malicious chakra — used it to disintegrate the undead, to destroy Obito's giant wooden statue, to incapacitate Obito himself in defense of Sakura. Her shishou died after finally clawing her way into redemption, and Sakura wouldn't allow her grief to cloud how proud she was of Denatsu.

"It's a shame… she didn't grow to like you… Kaka-sensei… you would have gotten along, I think…"

Kakashi smiled indulgently. The unpleasantness between him and Denatsu was completely mutual, after all. "Save your energy, Sakura. You used a lot of chakra..."

"—not all of it," Sakura assured him, throat strained with the effort of talking. She was naturally conservative, and this chakra was the last thing she possessed of her shishou.

"You've used enough," He said, tone stern. "Rest. You've done well."

She breathed through the pain, emotional and physical, and held her sensei's hand tighter—her only sensei, the only one she had ever wanted, in spite of his copious amounts of flaws. Nobody was perfect.

Kakashi cared for her; he hadn't stopped, she knew, but all she had ever wanted from him was visceral acknowledgement that all her hard work hadn't been for nothing. And she'd finally gotten it, only for the feeling of self-satisfaction to fall short of the mark. But this wasn't disappointing. Not for Sakura.

The fact of the matter was that she'd already proven it to the most important person: her damn self. Kakashi—and everyone else who paused long enough to look upon her and realise she was more than a shrinking violet, hidden in the shadows of her team—they were just late to the party.

Sakura was a shinobi, for better or worse. Other people's opinion hardly counted towards her execution of duty. She was a bit too busy forging her own path to be concerned about them.

She closed her eyes. The burning on her torso receded into her skin, the seal on her heart growing dormant. Madara was dead, Naruto and Sasuke weren't, and she had her sensei by her side. The fatalities were lower than expected. The war… for all intents and purposes, the war was finished. Most of her friends were alive, save for Neji, whom Sakura would properly mourn as soon as she had time to breathe.

Presently, she would satisfy herself with this: Sakura was going home with _all four_ of her boys.

She would walk in-between them, a hand on Kakashi and Naruto, a watchful eye on Sai and Sasuke. Her shoulders would brush theirs. Sakura, for the first time in her career, was confident in herself. She was no longer watching their backs.

From now on, they were equals.

And finally—fucking _finally_ —the boys believed in that as much as she did.


End file.
